Crowded, we breed abominations,
but hope to build anomalies.
Congested, we poison the abstract.
Try as we may, pleas fall abandoned.
I hold precepts unpopular.
Humanity veers to false hedonism
over the greater good.
Overpopulated, we face obliteration
of resources no longer
abundant.
The farce strips the future
away at a cost unimaginable.
Methods try to counteract the course,
with ideology incomprehensible
to the blight adorning reality.
Measures to right wrongs demonized,
as sides sharpen axes to cull cancerous
cells from pushing their conformity.
Eight billion parasites burrow into the core
leaving corpses scattered for scavengers,
what few still struggle for survival.
Life sings its bittersweet elegy,
sorrow for the gift of human life.
Carcasses must line the roads,
fill the countryside with seven billion
tumorous sycophants to give
the gift of rebirth under a healing grace.

© Hesher John

Slightly revised repost from Poetizer.