Progress

For the sake of progress, must be discouraged

The river churns powerfully,

But the water is not clear

Tendrils of oil snaking through,

Choking whatever it touches

 

The old forests range wide,

But the trees do not stand tall

Their limbs quiver in terror

Leaving birds speechless

Waiting in fear for the sound of the saw

 

Rolling hillsides scream

As they are torn by yellow claws

Their innards strewn about

On display for uncaring eyes

 

Oceans sway with the shore,

Their eternal dance slow and lonely

Their watery audience long gone,

Buried in iced coffins in supermarkets

 

Standing alone,

The solitary Raven cries,

Its sobs echoing unheard

Across valleys consumed by suburbia