Cacophany

Cacophony
How it hears to me
Listen:

Human traffic,
The soul of the world,
Death rattles.

All in the distance.
Distant as a star
And still as capable of forming scars
From staring too long.
So listen:

Human trafficking,
The soulless soil,
Deathless patients.

It's all there—
Dripping
From showered hairs
Of nature.