The air hums with untold unease,
each breath heavier than the last.
We walk on sidewalks like tightropes,
eyes fixed downward, hearts clenched shut.
Newsfeeds swallow morning coffee whole,
poison siphoned into trembling veins.
Faces fade into masks of worry,
wearing the weight of storms unknown.
We scavenge for calm in cluttered spaces,
grip our phones like lifeboats in floods.
Every silence feels like a siren,
each pause—a harbinger of collapse.
Sleepless nights breed toxic cycles,
spinning wheels in marrow-deep fear.
A nation braced on anxious whispers,
regressing inward, backward, downward still.