The Aetheist's Tale Of Survival Poem by Shelta Realms

Why is it that the sky is too low this gagged morning?
I was just asking because the sky yesterday was very high...
and indeed, out-of-reach.
Yesteryears has proven a lot of decency,
attained focus, relished victory.
But that was before- when we were puppets of what we perceived as supreme.
We stayed, stood, danced, and killed ourselves as superiority provokes.

I think I can touch the sky.
Only to find out
that I have touched a spree of falling dead bodies from above.
I snapped a smirk, bowed down, and prayed silently