A resplendent stone twinkled.
But.
Man was dying.
In wars.
Turtles.
Still deposited their eggs into the sand.
But.
Earth was dying.
Bees.
Still found nectar in flowers.
But.
Bees were dying.
It was time.
To elect a new president.
In the soft
Colors.
Of
Dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem