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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1819186
A poem born out of my observations
How beautiful and gorgeous, O my God;
How lovely and strong, just like this very brand new rod.
For she is strong and compassionate, Nature’s soul;
To us men, the stewards of her mother and home!

When she was young, how vibrant and happy she was;
We were filled with joy and respect for her always.
Man was still young and nimble at this time of year,
So Nature, herself, provided everything dear.

Years have passed by and things in this world slowly changed;
We men have slowly lost the respect, every range.
Now we only cared for riches, not for your glory;
You have witnessed this and, now, you’re filled with worry.

You heard your mother cough and weep, falls of worry;
You sent out signs to turn our hearts in a hurry.
Mankind heard your call; everyday seen your signs;
But only a few, valiantly answered your cries.

We who are still faithful to you, our dear lover;
We lament for our crimes, the failure to bother.
But listen o’ daughter to the song of us men;
“We will fight and change for our dear good brethren!”

We will battle but I know for a fact you will,
Never live to see the day, man changes ones skill.
Upon your grave, the seeds of life bear a new root;
The hearts of your stewards, filled with your holy fruit.

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