Die, Earth, Die

With each unpreDictable swivel of our fingertips,

a familiar, sacred slab of tree Is destroyed.

The Earthy aroma drifts through our veins,

its rotting roots a mirror of what we once were,

reminding us of where wE came from.

Our hAnds, too, carve the earth,

leaving scaRs that time cannot heal.

Her rivers run wiTh tears we've caused,

the soil crumbles beneatH our feet.

What was once a cloak of comfort,

has become a shielD against ourselves.

What was pure now stands stripped of Innocence,

a barrier bEyond our reach,

as we destroy the earth

that raised us-

repeating

die, earth, die