Suffer Harshly

Hyacinth garden

Peering ahead into nights unlit gloom.
Life or death there is always a room.
Animals suffer more then humans,
some say it is true.
They do not have that emotion, but I say that they do.
Nature controls in its intractable grip, it is the last hand.
And man thinks that he is the one in command.
Breath sharp and exhaled quick against frosted air.
Little pules and traced the curves of heaved chest.
Suck in and blow out, life's only breath.
A cold gray mist, as staccatos of shivers hang on the wind.
From deep inside and from somewhere severe
Darker and deeper.
Nature whispers and authorizes a lesson always taught.
Delivery that calls to origins and unfading.
Animals suffer harshly, with little more than a whimper.
Out there is not a metallic glow.
As the end came in the corners of the animals yellow paper daisy eyes.

So cut down another tree, as if it is your right.
And dump more tons of poison into the unlit gloom of night.
As Nature decides for humanity what will be its plight.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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