There isn’t a song for this planet,
Living breathing world of granite.
Look to its future can’t you see,
Poisoning dying slow by degree.
This passion to heal without a desire,
Bringing only muck, ruin and mire.
The worlds night light with oil fires,
Not to fear say the corporate liars.
Air smelling more foul not pleasant,
Earths people just pray to their God.
What’s the solution to this our plight,
Will it end with not an end in sight.
We opted for flight instead of fight,
Deaths door roams with it a blight.
Soon the fires slowly turn to pyres,
And living on a world that’s dying.
The requiem starts soon take a seat,
Not only a mass for the masses dead.
Requiem Mass for a planet set dying,
A Mass is for only dying or deceased.
This Mass of the Dead already arrived.
By Sheilah Say
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