In a world torn asunder by conflict,
As the grasses wither and die.
Mighty beasts that roam shall
Be no more, while every fish
Chokes to death from our waste,
I ask you this, Mankind:
What shall become of the weeping
Willow trees? As you build thy houses
Of ash, elm, maple and oak.
Adding cedar, fir and pine. My
Goodness are we so blind?
Watching birds as they fly
And fall from the sky,
I ask thee, Mankind, why?
In your world, I can not stay.
For I am lost, no place to lay,
As my head spins around,
Why aren’t my feet on the ground?
For I am a spiritual being,
In this matter feeling.
Through my words I recite,
This world has lost sight.
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