smog

The sky was dull. Smokey beige smog hung in the air.

It loomed over highways and skyscrapers and over fields and backroads. The Jersey sun high in the sky, glowing a deep orange. 

Our planet burns while greasy businessmen smirk and leer. Capitalism smothers us and singes our lungs and expects us to work anyway. To trudge through our life and resign to oppression. To view tragedy as inevitable. The machine is overclocked and is starting to self-destruct.

I hadn't, until now, considered the fact I would have to witness the phoenix perish in flames before i could watch it rise.