I'm askew sketched with knowledge only
a bird of prey terse ambition and pollution through my eyes
when I dip below love of Heavens visage I am become a beautiful snowy mountainside

Depth of simple satisfactions, depth of hues of machinery, almost Machiavellian through the skies
few scant glimpses see me denying the green that need be
And when I touch the farm skulkery ethanol trampled & prevailed zero carbon trail
I am the last strain for hope the tree of human civilizations mentality

So you're, so young the Earth subsides for the minds that shall
reign across galaxy so easily as the sky above, or does it?

We drench our sorrow in hopes of tomorrow, perhaps
drowning a dream in overcoming unscrupulous monopolies,
playing a duplicitous game...

Or perhaps do we drink of a better tomorrow, factories and, machines, not shallow
and ascend in a drunken essence of what the real Earthen throws ...have to offer!