Understanding in your superior design,
will eternally escape my apprenticed grasp.
Sitting among the brilliant sun and moon,
floating with the tamed, restless clouds
and shooting stars across the midnight sky.

A kingdom of gold and silver tapestries,
each with a tale told of great triumph and the Fall.
The sharp edge of the world slicing
into the heart and soul of Mother's womb
with wine dripping from hungry, carnal lips.

Listening to silence of the summer springs,
dusk settles over the calms of the royal seas.
Children of sacred gardens dance to the drums,
sensuously gyrating to death's chilling song
beckoning to them on bleeding wings of glory.

Pilfering nature's fruitful treasures illiberally,
ruining your vast creation with scornful tendencies.
To birth a white lamb just for ritual sacrifice,
slaughtered by malice and pure hatred
for nothing more than the rotting carcass that's left!

Like rabid wolves devouring sickness for flesh,
battling for the last scrap of dignity.
As if starving when sustenance was before you
and the choice to take all for granted,
swift in feral mind to conquer.

A forest with no voices resounding through day,
starry night filled with unrelenting quiet.
Cavernous valleys of dry desert dust
and crumbling mountains in a stoney gorge,
hiding the graves of impending extinction.

Ignorance will not lead to beauty in bliss,
but destruction in our fading humanity.
And yet, we've chosen this fate without reluctance,
without a sorrowful tear shed for Mother's hurt
and the pain formed by her massacring spawn.