It carries on in the motif of the old Romantics, or at least, I hope it does.
It's just a short piece on the desecration of our planet.
I once roamed fields full of flowing flowers
and grass like emerald spires
raised high, like hands
to the sovereign lord,
who blessed us all with love.
But man is not long wan for peace
and soon a war, so fruitful, showered
us in fire and shrapnel shapes like snow-flakes
of hardened, hammered, iron.
The land; we scorched beyond recompense
and built so tall our concrete towers.
Though there reigns only one lord,
we wage our constant wars of vying power.
Who may say what makes war right
when blood is shed between brothers?
Following the steps of those before, the earth
underneath is marked and scored
as like with Cain and Abel- who legislated law
and as we grow rich, the planet poor,
so we forget where we came from-
we plummet, overthrow, we fall
at blinding speeds and so shall see
no more, the beauty of Earth as was once before
