Climate Change and Catastrophic Dream

Come on, feel the noise of the roaring river, it used to be our childhood dream. Let us walk along its banks, eat some oysters sweeter than honey, gather seashells prettier than rainbow, and make necklaces out of them, like we did ten years ago. Swim with me once again, its water is softer than foam, naked while our skins touched each other, like we did not long ago. Let's make a raft of banana trunks, from the roughest water into the delta, where we used to have our lunch, with papaya pickles and grilled squid. But you said, sorry, I can't go with you into our river of dreams, its water is no longer sweeter but bitter, flowing with poison from chemical industries, it is as polluted as our politics. The river of our dreams, where we should build our home, take some fishes on its water, but it is dead, the fishes turned into bones, the seashells are melted like lead, its water is acidic, it is dead.