All is confusion. All is division.
A kind of madness reigns over our nation.
Friends cast friends aside over politics.
Instead of reality, the only thing that people see are tricks.
Not only are their minds polluted,
But so are the skies, oceans, river and land.
Every day some species of life is exterminated.
The humans rush about, animated
By falsity, a digital web.
Freedom, go to bed.
To live to see the world die
Is a river of curses that we must ply.
I write this on paper, for perhaps it may survive
The rust and rubble that will engulf our lives.
There is an inscription on an Egyptian tomb,
Four thousand years old it is.
A husband writes to his wife,
“…please come to me in my dreams.”
God grant that a fragment of what I write
Survives to to please some distant human’s sight.
-Russell Smith, 2017 A.D. or C.E.