Victory is near

Victory is near – we cannot win;

the final campaign will soon begin.

Losing is the reality of this war

for any cares about the score.

A battle that’s worth the final cost

is the battle that can’t be won or lost.

A battle for hearts, a battle for minds,

the battle that glory just never finds.

And so it will end, though battles will rage;

the end of an era, the end of an Age.

Humanity dies and our parting shot

is to leave behind a planet burning hot.

We leave to our children slow painful dying;

to say anything else would just be lying.

We’ve lied enough; we told them we cared

Yet none of that wealth we really shared.

We plundered a planet – to the victor the spoils;

we’re burning our children in sweet Gaia’s oils.

‘Tis Gaia who is the mother of all that’s true,

But children we’ve used her to destroy you.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
This entry was posted in gaia, Green Poetry, Life, Spirit. Bookmark the permalink.

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