Earth’s Last Lament.

You carved me with your barbed border lines.

And ravaged my body of what I’d become,

Still bowed, my roots clutch your designs.

You wrote your dictionary that now defines;

Your limitless cruelty has rendered me numb.

You carved me with your barbed border lines.

In slow death, my treasure declines;

Looted, razed and bare, I succumb.

Still bowed, my roots clutch your designs.

My veins collapse into your colonising mines.

Your moral compass falters on a phantom rhumb.

You carved me with your barbed border lines.

With cold apathy, you ignored my warning signs;

Hands that seize in wreckage and in scum.

Still bowed, my roots clutch your designs.

Beneath my broken body, ocean-water climbs;

My buried faultline gathering the dark to come.

You carved me with your barbed border lines.

Still bowed, my roots clutch your designs.