This timeless land will hold forever in its grasp
An endless procession of Man to his very last gasp

They call it progress when it all is destroyed
No thought of redemption is ever employed

A creation of wealth is all that matters
Mother earth is wounded and left in tatters

Signs are delivered but are not understood
For greed is so blinding no-one cares for our good

We march on forever and believe we are strong
But the spirits will teach us for we are so very wrong

Can the winds of change arrive in time
Or is Man's obliteration nature's last chime?

Thank you Richard for sending me your poem!