Pollution

Befuddled and be gone In a creation went wrong. One lonely star in the deepest night Bedecked in it's twilight, The masked words of an ancient song- The shinning sun at noon Goes dark without a tune. While the moon still comes around Hoping to be found, As the wild wind blows all into dunes- Birds won't fly In an empty sky. For there is no air Above a land completely bare, Where all have left to die- It's the world we've got Filled with rot. The way of mortal man Changes the original plan, And all that was, is not- It may, we pray, come clean in the end With help from a higher friend. Still the blue sky goes gray Awaiting that day, And the poets beg for help, in the messages they send-