technology steals time from us,
the attention that we lack.
suppose nature had a mother and a father who want her back?
what words can one play when there is no other way,
time is irrelevant, needless to say.
hourglasses drip heavy sand
as the end draws near of their demands that you've failed to keep.
lose sleep. wake up, fret and go about the day
but in a mindset that is not normal, not okay.
repeat.
if nature did indeed have a mother, she must be majestic.
her father one so powerful he could juggle the planets between his fingers,
drape the milky way across his shoulders,
don Orion's belt and bow, but quickly so,
drink from the big dipper, stir from the little.
parents aside, for they've hastily hidden,
leaving mother nature all alone to birth the selfish and unforgiven.
that mankind race, so out of place,
toxic waste killing their creator, such disgrace.
everyday accumulation seems too hot to handle,
but mother nature must never die down like a slowly flickering candle.
all it takes is hope upon action,
then reaction to reaction to reaction
until the only repetition is nothing at all,
a point never to be reached for we're all fated to fall.
twist your fate, rewrite your ending,
fall down hard, then stand up smiling.
pick up the pieces where you once left off
and scoff at the fallacies you once believed,
for the future holds everything--and nothing,
if you please.
