To Soak in Reality

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This world,
This beautiful sphere,
This blue orb,
We’re wasting it.
We’re being sucked
Into a man-made black-hole.
We’re trapped in a cage,
A cage of hate, pollution, and a lack of care.
We’re bleeding internally,
The world’s pulse, it’s dying
As its blood is drained.
Externally, we’re a mess.
We’re an anorexic world,
Starving to death.
We’re being deprived of nutrition and love;
For hate is our disease.
The world’s protective blanket
Is now ripped and torn,
And nobody is willing to mend it.
What was beautiful is now ugly,
What was once alive is now dead.
All that is left are tortured souls,
Souls that are left behind on this bloated stomach.
It took a little bit of hate,
A lack of care,
And now we’ve got self-destruction.
The world is doomed,
Doomed to destruct,
To smother in UV rays,
To radiate in Nuclear waste,
To boil in grease,
To drown in lies,
To soak in blood,
To rot in the depths of despair,
To burn in Hell,
To be lost to the powers of evil…
I don’t know about the rest of
This dying world,
But I think it’s time to wake up,
Before this nightmare becomes a reality.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved. Written circa 1996.

Tittu

Poet’s Note:
For Throwback Thursday. This piece was written in 1996, when I was still a teenager. While I wasn’t yet inventing forms or publishing in anthologies, I was already living as a serious poet — performing spoken word at teen arts festivals, open mics, and anywhere the words could breathe. Looking back, I see how much of my voice was already present: urgent, unflinching, prophetic. This is who I have always been.