I hear nature singing, the varied carols I hear.

The sounds of mother nature, desperately singing her own plea
as it if it should be.
The quiet suffering,
painfully tranquil heartache,
overwhelming the melancholy atmosphere.

The trees singing their carols,

screaming out their rejection,
forever
hidden by a song.

The air singing theirs as they make ready for the painful exposure,
as the autumn leaves fall off their tree
dying,
it is too.

I hear our society singing what belongs to us,
our utopia forever hiding
the truth
behind the mindless carol of perfection and
happiness.

The land sings to you,
begging
the release of the constant torture.
The land singing of her service to us,
only being met with our screams
of demand.

The melancholy song sung,
her pleads and hopes
crushed in the way of our culture.
Forever, at our own hands.

I hear nature screaming.