"Ten thousand moons have bloomed and wasted thin
since Homosap'ens sap'ens tempted fate,
ignoring Wise Ones' doleful climate cries
until The Scourge awoke to eat their brains:
'Neath molten skies that dripped with CO2,
all ancient ices melted from the poles
and carried novel viral threats that breached
the sandbags piled high to stanch the flow.
The humans brandished medicines and masks,
assuming brainy scientists would cure
all sicknesses their foes could curse them with-
and, for a time, the younger ones endured.
Alas! One monster proved too tough to beat,
for tiny as they were, their feasting spread
to ev'ry mountaintop upon the Earth;
within a year, most humanoids were dead.
With seven billion bodies strewn like leaves
and Scourge's bellies filled with neural mush,
they oozed through pores and huddled on the ground;
sleep swiftly tucked them back into the Earth.
The Chosen Ones survived The End of Days,
allowed to live in order to regale
how Mother Nature deals with harsh abuse:
her booby traps revengefully assail.
Remember, young Ones, never should you harm
this glor'ous ball of heaven we call home,
as hist'ry's foremost lesson I've extolled:
we all must be as one with nature's whole."