Rinchey's Rhapsody

Alas! At last the world is drunk, fed with toxic ego and lust. Its bluish eyes hath reddened sore like it hath never been before. Its odorous breath stinks of death, for its glorious beauty had shrunk into a crooked vale of crust and dust. The cheerful chirping of the chicks awaits their mother ripped by war. Its thunderous boom scares the dove and erases all tales of joy and love. All its greenness wear a wearied look, leaving its beauties only in books, to see and feel with wistful eyes what wondrous wonder the world hath worn. As a son of global mother, men art father of their actions. He treads on his mother’s chest and lays bare the breast he suckled. In a world we talk much of beauty, the ugliest thing is our action. Weeps the world at such sickened sons. -Rinchey