We filled its fertile fields full of Plants of our own choosing: our own design. To provide for ourselves we drained the Earth Because the Earth was ours.
We populated the islands that The Earth had built for us from its own skin. Like parasites we kept it alive for our needs Because the Earth was ours.
Then one day the Earth spoke:
You who crawl over my face, Unthinking for the blemishes you build. You till my skin and plough my bones, you drink My tears and feast on my flesh. Slowly, my fiery Vengeance has brewed, bubbled upwards And wrath shall be known.
It will begin as a rumbling. You will think I tremble with terror at your might But the movement of your monuments is more my Laughter at your lowliness. The hallways of your houses Will be hewn by themselves as my body convulses to be rid of the Sickness of you. You will sound your two-tone Armageddon sirens In vain as my thunderous thoughts tumble your towers Fragment your foundations. Break your brick walls. Stone on stone will spark, igniting infrastructure And your cities will burn.
But it is just the beginning.
I will bury you. I will bury you in the fire of my fury. I will bury you in the ashes of my anger. You will solidify, screaming, into silent stone. You will choke, child-like, on my smoke. You will die by my hand: your home. And I will bury you.
And this to me is easy. I am greater than all you build from My body. So I use my body to wreak ruin: Reduce your greatness to rubble and dust Because the Earth was always mine. I was always my own.
This is a spoken word piece, the latter part after "The Earth Spoke:" is meant to be screamed.