Earth Atrophy

TREES:
Futile flutters,
substitute for a heartbeat;
four chambers encaged
by tissue paper.
Illusory decor
distracts from the deterioration
of a once strong muscle;
thick
red-blooded with love.
Now so fragile
its beat alone
could tear it
to shreds.
On the verge of being ripped
to oblivion,
follow no rhythm.
Boxed in by beautiful
colored paper walls-
death never looked
so lovely.

WATER:
Toxins plague
a once-functional liver;
healthy, bright-green
bile turned against its organ.
Sticky blob
riddled with infection
so dark the color doesn't exist.
Suffocated, liquid
thicker than oil erodes
no longer able to purge poison;
self-consumed by disease.

AIR:
Smoke monopolizes,
exhausting lungs.
Charred ash is the new pink.
Elasticity lost,
functionality error,
apply respirator.

We kill this Earth everyday.
When will we realize-
we do so with a double-edged sword?




c.marie