One day it will die,

The ground beneath us crumbled away,

Flowers shriveled to nothing but thin wisps,

Leaves already so close to death now desiccated in the wind,

And the trees,

All once full and fruitful and blooming we now find empty, 

Hallow,

Dead like the rest of our home.

We didn't do anything to save it,

Help it,

Nor protect it,

And perhaps this is how you prefer it,

Lifeless,

Bones without flesh,

Maybe that is why you didn't do anything,

Perhaps it is why you piled on excuses after excuses,

And why you never bothered to help.

We just sat as time passed,

And watched what little that was left of our home deteriorate. 

'There is nothing to worry about',

'It will be so long',

Before what?

Our Home is gone?

Lost?

But our world is already on the verge of being lost,

And there is only so little we can do now,

And we must do it.