Cassandra
They call me crazy
For what I see,
For urging them to look
Past the smiles,
Past the perfect screens
For screaming my silence
In this world of endless noise
I watched my mind burn once—
Watched my words scatter
Like ash in the wind.
Now I see minds break,
Watch lives go quiet,
While my warnings drift away
Like spams in the feed.
So I type warnings—
Threads, comments,
In pixels that glow
But remain unseen.
Everyone’s moving fast,
But not forward,
Scrolling past fire,
Past wars
Past a boiling planet
They scroll right past
The cries for care,
The quiet grief,
The broken spirits
Wrapped in polished tags.
I scream,
In comments lost,
Fingers racing like flames
Across the cold unfeeling keys
They dismiss my words—
“Too dramatic, too much,”
Smothering the silent truth
Under a relentless noise.
Still, I’m here,
A prophet lost in pixels,
Truth drowned in likes
And I’m still here,
Voice cracking like glass
Whispering to the void,
To the shadows,
Hoping someday
Someone
Finally
Listen.
@azurePond
Another excellently evocative piece. I loved the delicious imagery of the similes you used. The whole thing is such a fantastic reinterpretation of Cassandra in the modern age. One feels like we are seeing the prophetess hunched over the screen, typing desperately into the void of an unheeding net. And still perhaps we hear another voice too, (maybe the author?) speaking through the electronic age priestess, uttering warnings that we ignore or disbelieve.
Loved it.