The earth’s possessed, by hordes outnumbering Legion,
Summoned by man’s enterprises reverenced like religion.
We all bow before our industrial idols, and brew them,
They swirl about and we breathe them, spew them.
Demonic mists now rule the day, obscure the night,
The moon turns to blood; the stars lose their light.
We roll in our wages of sin, and yet we doubt,
We’d rue the day the lights went out.
I found this in my old poetry notebook from college. You gotta love college angst! “I am so upset about the environment, I am going to write a poem about it!” I wonder if college-me would be disappointed at what I am doing now or not…I had such starry-eyed hopes for my life then. From the apocalyptic nature of this poem, maybe college-me would be surprised that there is an earth left.