RedRavenPoems

What will you do when the last tree is gone?

When the breathe in your lungs becomes naught but smog?

Or when the oceans are too putrid for life

When we gave nothing left but great turmoil and strife?

Will we scream, will we cry, beg higher powers for aid?

Cast about fruitless for others to blame?

For now to many this but a game

The end may come and it shall never be the same.

The earth torn asunder,  from her riches we plunder

The great life giver lies bleeding and torn

Wondering, why, where these beings born?

We squander the world and rip it apart

Never a care for more than profit. Do we have a heart?

Perhaps in the end, the truth will be made clear.

Though too late for all we hold dear.

The world runs red with blood of the innocent

Perhaps ours as well, before all is done.

For the chaos has only just begun.