Predators Always Sit at the Top of the Food Chain

I was almost ready to take off my mask to breathe in this surreal world
of verdant green skies pregnant with hope
My skin was almost ready to get smeared
by the life-giving soil on this planet
far-far away from the Earth

Years and years have passed and I was sent on this intergalactic journey
swirling through the dazzling lights
of myriad constellations and stars
whose lights travel a thousand lights years
to die at the back of my eyelids

I still hold tight to that elusive hope
Like the last sliver of pure air
tightly trapped in my oxygen cylinder

Hope is an elegy to acceptance, they say

And I stand where under the clear verdant sky
that's welcoming me with its blue kindness
To an uninvited stranger – from the past or maybe from the future
who knows,
To unlock the mysteries
in the strange minds of those
who calls this place “Home”

Waiting with their gaped mouths and gazing eyes
I stood atop the highest point
donned in my skin-tight leather jacket
almost ready to blurt out the truth

Predators Always Sit at the Top of the Food Chain

The razor-sharp serrated truth
the ashen truth about Mother Earth
that I recently deserted
in peril, blazing under the fires
scorched and parched left
with its pulverized existence on its last breath
begging for mercy for me to return and restore its beauty again

Where I’m away thousands of light years
posturing boisterously as a beacon of hope
as I travel through galaxies and star system
laced with my incessant greed

As I lay lien to the soul of yet another planet
brimming with life,
looking at me with hope, desire, and anticipation.