The oceans warm
Between my finite eyes
The motions of the dipping galaxy
Visit my planet like birds
To see the forests gone
Morning’s amber roads
Where the news is never good
My planet makes money
On the insurance of the dead
The image of aged cities
Does not satisfy the heart
The future hath no hospitable intuition
For this company of greed.
Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sacred-Land-404849999
Outstanding! Blessings to you, fellow Word Weaver, on this Wonderful, Lyrical Poetry Day!!
Hey! Thanks Morgan, lyrics are my favorite these days