Whales

Both of us share, within the mortal coil, a bright sentient light. We mindlessly slaughtered you for your oil to light our lamps at night. We ceased when we found oil buried in soil, not because it was right. With the new oil, we realized our goal, plastic always in sight. You swallowed plastic, your lives again stole, on the ocean a blight. Perhaps not the lamps, but our guilty soul keeps us awake at night.