The wedding day of hell

Locked in, shut down
forever resting under ground
a makeshift cross atop the mound
here is where the young are bound.

Higher they walk, more bones underfoot
look at the soul you'll see the blood, squashed guts
look at their eyes, the dried up tear ducts
as the future stands afraid and shook.

Generations ahead,vultures fed
over consumption stopped them, from flying overhead
the blue planet, that turned red
in case words are to subtle, everyone dead.

The future, if the past and present wed.