Our concrete world entraps souls of feathers and fur, beaks and snouts, paws and hindlimbs.
Unforgiving,
Confusing,
Brutal.
Trapped in an endless maze created not for them, but for us.
So how can we blame them for our mess?
For our hopelessness and terror,
Setting fire to their homes,
Chopping down their lives and calling it the ‘fruits of our labor’
To say that their trees are our money—
we are the true monsters,
and Mother Earth would surely thrive without us.
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 12:45 AM UTC
Our concrete world entraps souls of feathers and fur, beaks and snouts, paws and hindlimbs.
Unforgiving,
Confusing,
Brutal.
Trapped in an endless maze created not for them, but for us.
So how can we blame them for our mess?
For our hopelessness and terror,
Setting fire to their homes,
Chopping down their lives and calling it the ‘fruits of our labor’
To say that their trees are our money—
we are the true monsters,
and Mother Earth would surely thrive without us.
