Unforgivable
Night falls on day
these heathen times,
and clouds of gloom mask
even the Sun above.
Miles of water, ever lapping
frantically at our sinking shores,
yet never a pristine drop to drink
piteous is the irony.
Gasp for breath, ye who
choked this planet, intoxicated
by parochial pleasures.
In your dying breaths, beg
for a panacea that the meek soil
begged you for, so long.
And be warned,
for...
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