Poetry

I am infatuated by this pestilent world.....
Unsettled by its grotesque growth....
Yet so soundly in love with its rashness
to destroy towns and monuments
when not ceasing to see the true beauty among her.....
We build upon her fertile body and we consume her skin.....
Tearing and raping this perfection we make
'Necessities'
out of......
Do you now shed a tear for her....
The angels do....
Raining upon her body to help her stay strong......
We consume what we preserve and we preserve what we consume.....
So tell me this.....
'Who decides what? '
Is it a decision so tenacious that we dare not speak it!
Or be it the turmoil within ones moral that is broken every time her
body is beaten and set a flame......