Oh, nature,
            tell me,
Did humans break your heart
                          and rip away your sense of being alive?
Did they destroy your bare roots,
before soulless people would cut them?
Can the water still breathe
with all the plastics chasing her dreams
                                                          ­       of  feeling free?
Flowers dancing in hell,
crying that their happiness was blown away.
Trees have become lifeless,
with burns that ruin their appearance,
While a movie plays in front of their eyes,  
                              tearing  their family apart,
                                          while still alive
                                                    in the heat of fire,  
                                                         ­            hurting  their
                                                      ­                           sorrow
                               ­                                                        and
     ­                                                                 ­                         their cry.
The beautiful paradise is turning into a desolate wasteland,
with the cemetery of nature,
and humans stepping on their land,
smiling, as they kept the place
                                    as silent as death.

Locked inside the walls,
Sitting in the hall,
Trying to recall,
Yet I slip and fall.

What is it that inspires you?
What is it that desires you?
Is it inside these walls,
Or is it the outside calls?

Did I do something wrong?
Or have I been wrong all along?
Is it me who doesn’t belong,
Or is it the world that belongs?

The struggle is hard,
The game isn't fun,
But the process is an art,
And the player is one.

The inner voices ask,
"Am I done?"
The player removes the mask,
Killing himself with a gun.

Take a hiatus
to the petal adorned
sidewalks,

floating above reflections
of a pale canopy
Puddles-
of which are
doors back to reality