Express The Distress

decay

Blue skies are turning grey and it feels like the world is beginning to decay. Clouds cover overhead, crying their tears because they have no control of what is coming, only forced to play their role.

While oceans seep green falling ill because no one keeps them clean. And it's causing the fish in them to go drastic, dying from the assortment of plastic while the whale's flail, getting captured by big deadly sails. So the waves roll angry, restless, and helpless, knowing it could be decades until these new stains fade.

And the trees whistle calling for help as their trunks get slashed and the forest becomes flat. Buildings big and pristine replace the land of green, spitting endless fumes for all animals and humans to consume.

But the world keeps revolving on its axis even as we destroy it into blackness. Because it knows it will heal when people become unreal. And it will be beautiful again after a long while, thriving more than ever until the next species tries to chip it's interchangeable pieces.

Nobody seems to see the problem but when it's too late there will be no one left to debate