The Red Plague/ Mao's Legacy
Earth, water, metal, sky...
pummeled into submission.
Decay, refuse, side by side,
ground into submission.
Once pristine mountains ranged high;
while wild horses went flying by
ridden by Mongols 'neath starry skies
now, whipped into submission.
Rivers hemmed, tortured, bound;
green trees, now sickened, brown;
bare, skeletal, barren dry;
cringing 'neath soot filled skies....
All the grandeur now cries
ground into submission.
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