This crumbling land

Alone now flies the flocking bird

and less now is Dawn’s Chorus heard.

The world we knew crumbles to nought;

exhausted by life’s battles fought

against a foe who knows no fear

although our own end we bring near.

As species sing their sad death songs

we act like all the world belongs

to us, the masters of it all;

too wise to see our own downfall.

And when it comes we will lament

this tribulation Heaven sent.

We’ll blame it on some god above

and swear to shower him with love.

But if we want to stop this fall

the choice is there; it is our call.

We can choose to live with ease;

doing just what we may please

or we can choose to take a stand

and help to save this crumbling land.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri
This entry was posted in Green Poetry, Politics. Bookmark the permalink.

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