The dappled landscape dips - like a graceful teapot,
pouring logs down devastated hills;
sticks of licorice bound for hell.
This is no silent dignity of death!
Tortured limbs split, bruise,
and crack on surface rocks
while shrieking splinters
scatter like stormy bees.
Death glazed eyes of creatures here,
reflect a mindless, wantan desecration.
Habitat torn, where forest giants sway like
ladder -bridges to the sky while,
on the gorest floor,the night sky weeps
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment