She was the muse that wrote Shakespeare
The ink for the hard end quill pen
The pink brushes and paintings
She filled in
The scrolls
The songs we longed for
She was every inch of our existences
The persistence of evolution
The resistance to the poison and pollution
In every breath we stole
And seconds we sustained our vain self
She was there
Embedded in the genetic
And will be till the last tree
Burns down
Till the last cell withers away
Till the last protein pattern is lost
Incinerating in a nova holocaust