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Now standing in
Replacement a
Black vortex
Of nothing.
The trees are dead.
Reduced to nothing
But black totems.
Jeering reminders
Of our human stains.
The fields are dead.
The poor die first.
The rest will suffer
On slowly for their
Sins.
The animals are dead.
For the first time the world
Is still.
Man has lost his best friend.
The people are dead
And the
Black cloud moves
Away from
The sun.
Light fills the
World revealing
Nothing.
The world is dead.
- Peter Hattingh
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I really think that before the sun dies humanity will destroy itself over trivial ambitions. However this is a poem about one possible scenario and it is a bit unsettling because of the reality of it. Very well done
