Gæa

Another riverside poem.

Through the conquest of man,
She has defined benevolence;
Offering all that she had
In hope of a harmonious existence.

Her beauty was unmatched,
The dawn of aesthetics.
Tears began to cloud her face
As we became more and synthetic.

With everything we've taken,
She started to grow ill.
With pain, she would beckon,
Yet we all remain still!

Time is dwindling
In this, her final call.
Will you make the difference
Or be the root of her fall?