The First Words that He Spoke

And all He ever talks about

Is blood, death and the end of all our kind.

Free people, though we are

Our brains can’t discern want from need,

Anger from agony and most of all,

A cerebral acquiescence to pardon and gore.

The view from above, He says

Is of red on dewy grass; and black above

Spots of intense maritime trade.

(You dig deep to find

What you buried long, long ago)

But bleed your palms to see

That the said time and its devices

Aren’t wholly free of conscience.

Fail in the face of pain,

But try better a second time?

Unbearable as it is, for a last resort

You hope for death to relieve-

The feelings that tether you to this hellish life.

*

'Cause it Matters if You Care

Pictures still fresh in my mind;
Seem'd as vivid, but couldn't be real.
Was it a vision, or a dream unkind?
Whatever it was, our race has lost appeal.

Shadows blurred, but forms clear,
Walking about on damaged road.
Their purpose certain, method unclear,
A bridge there is, still wade across the ford.

Evidence of the tide of times,
Our coming dark and dire fate.
Smog and smoke - the deadly chimes;
Surprise not when comes the final spate.

A window have we, but small in size
To escape not, but let the worst escape.
Prudence pays and so to be wise
In saving ourselves, as well our dear landscape.

Let it be not a deathly tone,
Let it come never, true as skin and bone.

[In view of recent developments, leading to the possible (if not imminent) end of human sustenance on Earth, this piece has been composed by The Armchair Philosopher for the benefit of people who may be inspired to make a U - turn in their outlook towards the all - giving planet. If you wish to, you may quote for the benefit is that of our Environment. Clarifications may be requested through leaving a comment below the post.]