Today drips like ripe fruit,
crushed beneath the feet of kings and beggars alike.
There are laughters—wild, like tambourines in drunken alleys.
There are cries—long, like cathedrals echoing prayers that rot.
Today is today—
no mask, no mercy.

Somewhere, a woman breathes peace into her child’s soft hair,
Elsewhere, bones rattle beneath the boots of men with metal hearts.
Freedom dances barefoot in one square—
In another, a soul is shackled for dreaming.
Today is today—
a coin flipped by invisible gods.

Each sunrise is a loaded gun—
pointed at luck, or loss.
Some sip wine with trembling lips and call it survival.
Others bleed, silently, into clean white sheets.
Today is today—
the blade and the balm.

Alive—yes, the earth still spins
in her dress of dust and fire.
Life kisses us, bites us, forgets us.
But still,
Today is today—
undeniable, holy,
and cruel as love.