The Earth isn't dying—no, she's screaming, a sound you've stopped hearing.
she cried when girls walked miles for rusted, tainted water,
when ancient forests become forgotten, ash–filled pyres,
no worn map ever dared to mark.
In my homeland,
we don't fear the tempest's furious might.
We fear the silence –
The hollow echo of empty, cracked wells,
the desolate stretch of barren,...
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