Of Moons and Men

What if two moons
Endure a fated collision,
And then plan to invade
The vibrant green planet,
Crashing on its crust
To pull it together or apart,
Bleeding into its valleys
Distancing its wounds from the past,
Their debris treasured
Within the depths of graves,
Men to erect totems
For a sacrificial burial,
A possible resurrection
To rule over other Men,
Lustful villainous desires
Ending in an abyssal black hole,
Woes to the greed of Men
As the moons glow in ascension.

Stolen Maps

Men have long stolen maps of earth,
They have recreated them defective,
Nature’s eminence was casted away,
They were cursed: those who learnt
The truth along with buried treasures,
Not from nature, no, nature never
Curses as it only wages old beauty,
But men curse their own avaricious
Selves into their own burial ceremony,
And nature keeps outliving those men,
You see, men want to own everything,
They even look up towards heaven,
And search for maps that show them
The stairs to climb and the gates to
Take down, but then nature prevails,
Sending them into the depths of an
Ancient dust forgotten beyond the
Creation of you, and me, and Time.