Our modern world’s chocked full with war and hate,
With strife for power; fear of other’s trove,
Fair nature’s mien is stretched to unknown fate.
And distant times get only passing love.
Our first love’s for ourselves, then children born,
The third for heirs to come, so they may thrive,
The future earth’s collapse we barely mourn,
Nor pine if souls unknown do not survive.
What future times will bring is no surprise:
Much land for growing crops too hot, or old.
Rough seas to heights unknown are bound to rise,
All coasts we know sink deep beneath the flood.
Rude nature deems all matter shall degrade,
Our travesties exceed rude nature’s blade.