That time is space i can not think another
Thought which can better state the truth therein.
The sciences are low and set to smother
The earth until it gasps beneath our sin.
I see what trees are left upon the ground
Existing in the forest til such time
Erases them from nature with the sound
Of instruments which kill them in their prime.
I use a tool to build a new idea
The making of a world i will hold dear.