The Land
By Ellen W
Published 30 March 2023
The once-luscious green plains with immense life throughout,
On which the flowing water rains to flower again without doubt,
Only to be taken in chains not given the chance to shout,
Tortured and ground, cut down and blinded,
Stolen by greed it needs to be freed,
Take it away from those horrid creatures,
Away from all their destructive features,
It has suffered enough from desert skies, from blistering heat,
From water as it comes to rise, but at this it has finally been beat,
By the sickly air as it cries and the dying trees sulking in defeat,
Plains of green now turned to grey like ashes and stones,
Like the hearts of those who had it made, yet you can still hear it as it moans,
Shattering grey rectangles in victorious cascade with agony and loss no one knows,
Maybe someday the sun will rise once again and the flowers will bloom as waters flow,
Laws will be written with a pen and it shall no longer suffer in sorrow,
The creatures will undo what they did then and hope to be forgiven before the morro.