All storytellers - be they writer, poet, sculpture, cartoonist, songwriter,musician, painter, historian, moviemakers, architect or interior designer.................... inspire me too look at world through fresh eyes.

I'm a Aspiring Storyteller ~ Its what I love, it's what I breathe, it feeds my soul.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Man's Hand

Can you feel it?

Black red dead

Swamping the heart

Engorged with technological sludge

As it corrupts and converts

We seem to wade through – waist deep

Like a frantic animal trapped in a moor bog

The stench of us rising up

Permeating the pure essence

Whilst the putrid stench of rotting refuse

Invades all our senses

Taken over for our pleasure

Genocide of all the species even us

Does their death really serve a purpose?

Man assumes –They are the true rulers

Till we use it all up

We will do as we like

Cutting it down – Warming it up

Defecation of the earth

Pouring our rot onto the land

That allows us to take

And Take and TAKE

Until the world will finally

Unleashes its Power

Then man will truly lose and suffer

In the blink of a cosmic flutter


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