The world spins,
blowing up
from within
amidst this
human destruction.

Forest and fields burn.
Still time turns
an orb in space.

Fur falls to cinders
a painful reminder
as those who cannot
step up
find they have
very few defenders.

In a hundred years
when they are
no longer thriving here
who will remember
the wonder of the wild.

The world is going to hell,
seems to be a ball of fire
set to expire in a vacuum,
set to become a bare black tomb,
and we are either on
the edge of no return
are already falling off the precipice
into eternity’s dark abyss.