Poetry

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In wasting moments, do so many persist,
though on borrowed time, do we each exist.
For on life support, does the earth remain,
suffering through many ills, and much pain.
And a long tough battle, it has fought,
but any chance of recovery, it has not.
And very soon, will the plug he pull,
so too harvest, every forgiven soul.
For years his love, has stayed his hand,
in hoping his flock, would greatly expand.
But on many deaf ears, does the truth fall,
so that fewer and fewer, now answer the call.
For that evil disease, is ever growing,
and shows no signs, of ever slowing.
So to ensure the safety, of the selected,
must he do away, with all the infected.

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