Destiny

England’s green and pleasant land,
Choked by dust and desert sand,
Where once small children used to play,
Now ravaged, rusty, debris lay.

Beneath the roiling clouds of black,
This once green country colours lack.
Above this blanket shines a light,
That fights to pierce an endless night.

The scattered trees that do remain,
Are scarred by driving acid rain,
Their roots are searching underground,
Where little sustenance is found.

Our lust for metal, coal and oil,
A legacy of tainted soil,
This will all be ours one day,
If we don’t change our wasteful way.




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