old golden world
is turning to ash beneath our fearful feet
we are naked without even sackcloth
to fend off this bright wombless cold
were we born too soon for this?
set adrift, untethered from our very lives
we chewed through the umbilical
to fall away
fallfallfallfall
into this empty abyss
while the everloving arms – they reach down
to lift us up again…should we take hold