The Last Bird’s Cry

Lush
Serene
Vibrant
Fresh

Cool crisp air blowing

Beneath his wings as he takes flight

Guiding him

Carrying him

As he soars through the sky

Fresh and quiet

The air still The skies clear

In flight he is undisturbed

For he has all to gain

All from the land beneath him

Full of color his view

For the ground he watches

Radiant — filled with color

Trees of green and

Sandy yellow beaches

His body filled with strength

As he glides through the wind

Strength of which he gained

Gained from Nourishment

Nourishment from the land around him

Times Passed

Seasons Changed

Resources Ravaged

Nothing Left

Fields Empty

The air blazing scorching

His wings as he tries to soar

Suffocating

Stifling

As he flies low near the earth

Confining and Filthy

The atmosphere heavy The sky sweltering

Disrupted, Blinded and Weak

For what he needs to survive

Is nowhere to be seen

His view barren

As the earth he sees

Dull and Empty

Trees no more and

Beaches covered

His body meek and small

As he falters from the sky

The strength he had long lost

Lost his own sustenance

Lost to Carelessness

Lost to Ignorance

Lost to Greed

Sustenance he once had

Had from the ground

Ground that he will soon meet

Desolate

Disturbed

Dull

Dead