This Curse Of Our Inhabitation Poem by Captain Cur

Defeated no more! This chalice of life,
our sovereign world, will cleave us in terror
for we have made light of her suffering,
is this not how all rebellions begin?
The smoky clouds will choke us with their drifts
as the fires spread by thunderous sparks.
Be thou afraid! Exult in thy riches
for thy merry days few. Where will thou run?
To the shelter of thy King? Thou soft fool!
For he will watch thee burn at the entrance
to his gate. Go bend down before him, thy
new god and beg for his mercy. Applaud
his every word for an idolatrous
fever has clouded thy sense with thin lies.
This earth is truthful and in great distress
fighting against the contagion that has
razed the air and disemboweled its oceans.
What of thy children? Are thou deaf to their pleas?
Thy King mocks their lone cry and their anguish.
Earth be silent no more! With thy strong hand
crush all who would oppose thee. For this earth
has awoken to the enemy within
and her peaceful slumber had been broken.
She awakes in a rage! She craves revenge!
A temperate breeze hangs mute above us,
our wildlife shutters for they hear the voice
of the whirlwinds of heat and destruction.
Will thou science save ye pitiful selves?
What of the magicians? They have all fled,
for thy king is hunting and slaughtering them.
Soon all voices to be hushed, ere I wish,
man from evil born and no memory be
for this curse of our inhabitation
is quickly circling to an end.