The rivers turn to spite us
By slowly feeding us poison
The sea spits at us debris
On which its slowly choking
One by one, the beasts and creatures resignedly turn to exit
This plain which every second
Is less worth the fight of saving
I wonder if the animals know something's wrong
At least the ones we haven't enslaved
I wonder if the animals know something's wrong
Do they think that they are to blame?
I wonder if they have stories
Some beautifully written lore
A tragically useless explanation
Equal in delusion to the religions of men?
Liminal
The start of the insurrection
The inevitable hurtling chaos
The slowly dawning realisation
Of the ardour that faces us
Liminal
The absurdity, the terror
The reluctant understanding
The actions we must make
Would be deliverance and cessation
