From mountain top I still see.
Not with blinders of height,
nor distortion of mile.
I see the world in detail,
so frail.

Beaten not by wind nor water,
nor natural enemy.
Instead I see an earth abused
by the human society.

Ashamed, I could look away
pretend this day,
a view was not perceived.
And peaceful then
come the eve,
find myelf
in midst of lie,
but why?

It's saddening
that a world could fall
on it's knees,
in defeat,
to a race of angry men,
who feel to use
is most often
the survival of the strong.

How wrong!

The earth is bruised
and pained.
May never regain
it's glory.
That once it shared
in colors fair,
in breed so rare.

It may be lost,
gone into sleep.
And even from the mountain top
all of this I see,
and weep,
for the treasure
we knew
not how
to keep.

WhiteRose