[Intro — very low, almost ritual] Something moved under the water. Not a wave. Not yet. Something older turned in its sleep. [Verse 1] People, what are you doing? Look. No- really look. The forests are burning faster than your headlines can count. The rivers carry what you threw away. The air remembers everything you called “temporary”. And still you stand there arguing about the price of smoke. [Pulse enters — deep frame drums] The arrow of Ahriman is flying faster. Faster. Faster. Not because someone fired it today. Because every hand that says “not my problem” pushes it a little farther. [Refrain — wide, harsh, elemental] Poseidon stirred. The water heard him. The deep changed its breath. You may call it weather. You may call it chance. The sea does not care what word you choose. Poseidon stirred. And somewhere under all our noise, the Earth inhaled. Careful. If she sneezes, there will be nowhere to stand. [Verse 2 — more rhythmic] You build another chimney. Another road. Another reason to postpone the reason. You burn the future to warm the afternoon and call the arithmetic progress. You poison one coast because another still looks blue. You measure the damage in percentages small enough to sleep through. [Pre-Refrain] But fire does not read reports. Water does not attend the meeting. And the wind has never once respected a border. [Refrain] Poseidon stirred. The water heard him. The deep changed its breath. You may call it weather. You may call it chance. The sea does not care what word you choose. Poseidon stirred. And somewhere under all our noise, the Earth inhaled. Careful. If she sneezes, there will be nowhere to stand. [Bridge — stripped to drone, voice very close] I am not asking for worship. The Earth does not need your religion. I am asking for intelligence. A rarer thing. You do not have to love every tree. You do not have to kiss the ocean. Just stop behaving as if the house can burn because your room is still cool. [Ritual break — voice over percussion] Fire here. Smoke there. Heat rising. Ice thinning. Water moving. People arguing. Again. Again. Again. The arrow keeps flying. [Verse 3 — anger fully present] And yes, the planet has survived worse than us. That is not the comfort you think it is. She may survive. We may not. The stone will continue. The ocean will continue. Some form of life will continue. Congratulations. But if you want your children inside the sentence, perhaps this would be a useful time to care. [Final Refrain — huge, ritual, furious] Poseidon stirred. Now hear him. Not as myth. Not as god. As pressure. As water. As consequence. As what comes after cause. Poseidon stirred. The fires are multiplying. The smoke has learned the whole sky. The Earth is breathing through us. Do not make her cough. Do not make her sneeze. Because when a planet moves, no one gets to say: “I was only standing nearby.” [Outro — almost whispered, no beat] People. What are you doing? The sea is listening. The fire is answering. And the Earth has not yet sneezed. Yet.
