Snowflakes break upon her inflection,
Storms mourn her in every direction,
Rats carry her deadly infection,
But this is merely your perception.
She brings us goodness and grandeur too,
In valleys, plains, and oceans wide,
Strike us down, we begin anew,
Like the ebb and flow of her gentle tide.
Not above, but around us she sits,
In every animal, rock, and tree,
If only we would use her wits,
What a different race we could be.
From a lonely cricket crying,
To a sun slowly dying,
She is in every river, sea, and lake,
In every shudder, every quake,
Yet she is the one we forsake.
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