Roads—
everywhere.
Here. There. Everywhere.
Some rise above the earth,
some sink below it,
stretching upward—
as if trying to touch the sky.
Flyovers climb higher and higher,
and we rush across them—
faster than ever before.
But where are we going?
What are we crossing over—
distance,
or meaning?
These empty roads—
what destination do they truly lead to?
Because tomorrow…
they may not even exist.
One blast—
and everything we built
turns to dust.
All that effort,
all that creation—
reduced to silence.
And the truth is—
it is not nature.
It is us.
Humans,
destroying what we once dreamed into being.
So tell me—
why build at all,
if we are only preparing
to erase it?
Why climb so high,
if we are ready
to fall back
into the life
of our most primitive past?
What are we becoming?
~ Dawn
