The
river of the night flows calmly,
Trickles into tributaries of
brightening dawn,
The forest chirps and whistles, good
morning,
Luna's graveyard shift has come to an end,
For
today.
Man arrives, then more,
"A gated community
would do well here,"
The subtle sounds of life soon escape
the forest air,
Replaced by buzzing, crashing, chaos,
despair,
Vagrant mammals bent on destruction,
This species
requires no further introduction.
Homeless masses march in
exile,
They were willing to share,
But man didn't care,
Who
will speak for them now?
Very few,
Too little, too late,
The
herd will find a new home,
This is true,
But for how long?
New
Babylons established daily,
Downstream from a belching Paper
Mill.
Why do the humans hate them so?
To relocate their
lives, to make them go,
Nature dwindles,
Vast ecosystems become
zoo's in captivity,
Surrounded by,
Civilization?
Nothing
civil here.