Legacy

There’s so much loss, so little gain;

I look around sweet Gaia’s pain.

I see each day more land on fire;

We dance around her funeral pyre.

Each day there’s less that’s left behind;

What will we leave for our kids to find?

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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