Closer to the year twenty twenty
Has seen more death on the digital screen,
More forest fires and polluted waters
In man’s crusade against the devoted Green.
It is not a perspective or belief
But a scientific fact;
This world on which we reside
By us is under attack.
Do you want to bare the stain of a generation
That for the sake of profit and self-gain,
Did level the trees and burgeoning forests
And caused the death of moisture and rain?
What will happen with the lungs last exhale
And the heart of earth finally stops beating;
The sentinels for the protection of us banished,
Now none to stand before the sun’s heating?
Left will be man, supported on a rotting corpse,
The killing blade clutched tight still dripping
Sacred blood from their careless stroke…
Lost and alone, we feel the last breath drifting.
And in the wake of our vicious greed will be
Hills of barren sand and lakes of chemicals –
No oxygen atom left in the body to scavenge,
Man will then die as the last Free Radicals.
Gasping, drawing in dry fire and dust,
Finally feeling for our actions disgust.
A tentative creative that hope to hail as a published poet in the days to come. South African from the uterus to our current date. A lower-middle class working-class hero, working the salt mine, suckling the teat.
Who we are is in constant flux, but she likes to consider herself lamentably human.