What law?

What law is there other than to grow?
Do we ravage the earth because we know,
We have to keep on; we have to prevail,
Stepping through blood, so we do not fail?
Animals raised like they were in factories,
For our convenient tastes, and olfactories,
The creeping roots of our paths of green,
Selected by us, the best ever seen,
Waving like slender arms by acre in the sun,
Wheat and corn, the banquet done.
We have the power, we have the strength,
To rape this bountiful land, patient at length.
And we are bothered by a grim appetite,
Often our enemy, a master of spite,
Disrespectful and unbeholden to the ways,
Of our harsh preacher, who mandates praise,
For the omnipotent being who created,
A world so ruthless, with so much unstated,
So along this path I will mutter and stumble,
And like everyone before, in my time I will crumble.

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