I’ll compare the way
you treated me
to the way a botanist
a hunter of unknown plants
visicously reaps verdure

fauna shrouded in the steep silence
of deepest jungle heart
resting monsterous plants
brilliant as gemstones
vibrant, lush, and full of life

eager with unsatiated greed
the botanist begins his reaping
snapping heaven stretched branches
slashing satin budded blossoms
ripping leaves to Victorian lace
peeling strips of protective bark

his eyes shimmering
muddied pools of blinded acquisitiveness
thrilled with the thought
of harvesting these illustrious
vivacious plants all for himself
so eager to have that life

shoved into canvas oblivion
the plants rot and putrefy
without their strong eco system
their symbiotic environment
they are no longer the vibrant
brilliant plants they once were

upon seeing this
the botanist is aghast
and casts them to the muddy ground
vexed and irate
he stomps them deeper
watching murky water
erase their vivid hues

and so, the used to be plants
the now scattered viscera
plead only one question
of the botanist
how could you expect any less?

© Graveyard Grace