Poem: Winter Is Near

The winter of humankind draws near
Science has spoken in alarm
The day may be warm, unseasonal
Land whips at our faces
Too spoiled to take root
For all the rot we fed it
The well of life ran dry
As the last drop fell from our swollen lips
Our gods of gold had fallen short
Adorned in accolades we buried them too

Perhaps one day another kind
Will unveil our bones of mystery
On what was once such fertile ground
Should they enquire
How we never grew to regard our limits
To value the welfare of life and land
There remains of course one moment left
One movement to change the trajectory
Write a new chapter
To mark a start not the finale

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