We mark the day the Earth runs out of breath,
And toast our genius for perfecting death.
Free markets feast while nature’s strongholds fall—
And from our blood-forged tower, we revel in it all.

We gorge on forests, strip the seas to bone,
Steal Earth’s last gasp and claim it as our own.
Her lifeblood drained and minted for plunder,
We’ll bleed the last vein as the skies split asunder.

We draw on credit from a well running dry,
And twist her dying flesh into assets we’ll buy.
Through forests felled, life flayed open for gain,
We crown collapse as the market’s final domain.

Father Time scowls as the reckoning nears,
We mortgage tomorrow and pillage the coming years.
We burn the womb from which all life was born,
We ordain kingdoms of hollow wealth while Earth mourns.

Hope dims in the shadow of all we take,
The hands that would craft now conspire to break.
Amid the ruins, we polish a comforting lie,
Enshrining denial at the world’s last sigh.

So mark the day of extinction’s knell,
When Gaia’s vault lies looted and kingdoms fall,
The Earth’s clock tolls its final waning days,
As Overshoot wrests what no ransom can raise.

When only ashes whisper of kingdoms overthrown,
And barbarism haunts the waste, gnawing marrow from the bone,
When the last deceit lies rotting and the last true light has flown,
Earth draws her dying breath—and endless night ascends the throne.