The ocean boils and ices flow
Like whitened despair on hope's surface,
Wings cry and then drop dead down
To scorched concrete,
For there's only concrete all around.
Trees shed their green as homage
To the earth that once used to be,
And prepare for death in the dry of dusk.
The winters wallow in woeful winds,
The summer screeches of searing sorrow,
Terrorized beyond the threshold of tolerance
And on the bleak brinks of dire blights.
The monsoons deluge as if for the last ,
Brawling to realize the bible's prophecies.
The fall has fallen, given up to fate and
The spring had left so long ago.
The blue planet has turned to grey,
The greens have turned to fire and marble,
The future has turned blurrier than
The air of blooming urban marvels.
The sea arrives to seal our homes
And immerse them for its rising spikes,
The coastal plain has dived in blue
To rid the sand of its plastic guise.
The left of mankind now battles for life
Both with the earth and for it
And among itself to seize supplies
Priced like ivories of a fossiled mammal.
Givers of breath now struggle for it,
The mortal faces have nowhere to hide
But face the wrath and vanish, to return
The earth its sanguine sunrise.
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