the train still sounds and the ground shakes, the foundations of every house two blocks or closer rattle. the wind still moves, carrying the scent of the season for miles as we sweetly embrace the crisp of it on our pink cheeks. the birds still sing, a reminder that we have not yet destroyed every living being. our mothers still kiss us, they wrap us in their tears, for they love us. but if there is love, where is your voice? must i call upon a god to save me now? for one day, the train won't sound, the wind won't move, the birds wont sing, and our mothers won't kiss us - for we'll be gone. if there was a god, why believe he would let the love in this world perish?
