The beauty which we cannot see
has been thrown away at sea
Along with all the hopes and dreams
We have ever had for our planet.
The beauty of the morning mist,
Untouched by the destructive hands
Of humanity!
Wanting to make but will never be able
To create..
We are killing the beauty which we cannot process,
We pick the flowers for their unimagineable grace,
Instead of observing it in its rightful place,
Where it can grow further and create more.
We don't understand
That by trying to construct
We are breaking down
What was made,
By God's hand.