The shimmery haze like buckets of mist
Reflect the heat against the dying grass
And old man time must surely breathe his last
There is no way out; no mystery twist
Unheard warnings left all those words unsaid
Mean nothing now; our time is all but gone
The earth is lost; alas, we are undone
And none remain to mourn the souls left dead
We destroyed the Earth the mother of life
With greed and wars of unforgiving strife
It is the end of days we’re out of time
Like dried out fountains in valleys of death
And the world must pay for our senseless crime;
And so, begins an old man’s final breath

© JG Farmer 2017
Form: Countess Grief 1 Sonnet