The dead trees stand as sentinels.
Limbs outstretched in mock
Supplication.
The cold, and lifeless earth
Provides no sustenance.
My footsteps deaden the sound
Of the falling tears of children.
My heart says dry your eyes,
While my mind
Hides soulless thoughts.
The world has died of malnutrition.
The politicians stuff their pockets
With kickbacks from corporations
That feast on flesh
Of the dispossessed.
Gone is the time of renewal,
Passed are the cries
Of the dying planet.
Maybe the rise of the oceans
Can wash away the sins of man.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn
