Insight

Of beauty untold, this bejeweled landscape thrives, made to forgive,
Each and every life form on it has been unknowingly blessed,
The light, the water, the weather, the wilderness, the air, the reason we still live,
And yet we, us heartless beings, cause its worship to be stressed,

The pain we bear, is insignificant, lest we compare,
It to which this gentle being has humbly borne,
Scarred by our frivolous pursuit of, and devotion to items, for which one should hardly care,
The land and sky the blossom, and ourselves; many a ruthless thorn,

Our intelligence was given for the better, and certainly not our doom,
Who are we fooling, the reason of our purpose, or the very reason it exists,
What shall our ancestors, our teachers, our guardians, assume, 
Are we truly the monsters, as this ghastly tale insists,

Which shall forgive us, if we ever mend our ways,
The autumn wind shall not, upon it such burden we casted, of air foul,
The winter shall never, we still extinguish its existence and shorten its days,
The names of both noble and evil humans have been stained, each shall upon us scowl,

The land is a revered hope, a second chance,
Wishing for safety, contentment and long life, as we all do, 
Be rescued from our atrocious mistakes, be free once more to prance,
Although, it anticipates, not its saving, but first, the realisation of its value.