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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2200148
Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2200148
When we are gone, this planet will recover.
After he self-destructs
Cities will fall into ruin.
The last of our peoples will inhale
Their final breaths of poisoned air
Sol will burn his flesh
As he lays decaying in his own filth

A new dawn will awaken as always
The rains fall into streams
Flow to the oceans
Rising heavenward
Eventually to heal the skies

In millennia the clouds will again be clean
Bringing fresh water to dormant seeds
Plants will engulf and beautify all he had built
Or break it down and draw it back into the soil

New life will replace the old
The world once more primeval, pristine
She will not remember us
We will not be missed
For Man is a disease


G. Gabriel
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2200148