The world is shrouded in gray
Wrinkled, scratched, withering.
The once sparkling sky is
A dirty, ever-thickening rag
That clogs and chokes
The vibrant green lungs,
Bleeding, dying and shrinking.
A group of heroes with brave words came.
Promising a cure, a solution, a future.
Those still hopeful watched, believed,
And joined the march.
On and on the saviors went,
Chanting, enchanting.
They saved, and they healed
Sickly saplings and stranded snakes,
Feeble foxes and bedridden bunnies,
Diseased donkeys and coughing cats
An entire forest, miles across.
We must celebrate, said one hero
We shall show the world, said another
Let’s have a feast, said the others,
We will have a bonfire!
What are we burning? Some questioned
Why have a fire? Some asked
Go fetch the wood, the others demanded.
So they had a feast, with a fire
Built using the trees of the forest.
And the fire continues to burn.
