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Gaia Dies When We Deny HerCity structure rising in the backlit sky of unsettled peaceMy heart is drifting in a tranquility of uneaseWhen I turn my head to busily broken roadsI have found the reason for the pain of playground treesA muddled smog grows in glistening calmHow strange that it should light a brilliant skyThe colors shifting, orange to green in shimmering displayby these clouds the health of Mother is waylaidIt is only by some unseen voice I hearthat the promise of a new life is whispered soft to meWhen all those in their shinning domesrealize by their hands we are being smothered by wasteHow sorrowful by that time for Earth may be too lateAnd on my rock I sit while speaking to the grass and grounda lullaby of love for what they have so freely showncoursing strong but gentle on my lips of peachA sacrifice that I will take as thankful as I mayOne last chance to hear the songs of Gaia and her choir
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