Tonight I weep for the world,
not the Earth, but the world,
a planet teeming with cultured civilizations,
people who talk in elegant tongues and issue bright forms of self expression,
the world: torn and run over by our greed for paper rectangles and electronic numbers.
I weep for the world: with our civilizations
now paved with cement and skyscrapers,
for our libraries containing the berth of human intelligence,
how we strived to understand our world,
categorize it,
normalize it,
and how it would all be weathered by storm and sea when we’re gone,
the Earth re shining its surface of humans,
that moment when the last book gets teared in half by the wind
and the last building smashed by nature’s fist,
animals growing over urban landscapes
as avenues turn into savannas with caged animals now freed.
That when the last human took the last breath in the last human body
and there would no one would be left to record it. 
A Earth without humans, no longer a world:
I weep for the world.