Sky, in Descending Pieces

Moth floating
High above
Wings scorched
Limbs singed
(sky)

Withered evergreen
Lacking air
The end
Came swiftly
(in)

Crooked lips
Wavered fealty
Laugh amid
The wreckage
(descend)

We pebbles
Formed mountains
Gained arrogance
Shattered back
(pieces)

Cracked bleeding hands (the sky)
No longer carve stone (descends)
Water exists as (the end)
Our only sculpter

Cracked bleeding hands (cast of)
Of soil and ore (static)
Of carbon and steel (smoke)
Of fortress and conquest