Peccavimus
(we have sinned) 

The world spins endlessly around
its dying sun in endless space.
Seers and science seek a sign;
are we alone or might we be
mutations of an older race
planted here to serve some grand design
as guardians of a sacred trust.
Peccavimus.

Squatting on our mother Earth
we tear at her fragile skin,
gorging on the precious lode.
The industry that milks her dry
destroys the seed contained within.
Her vital systems now corrode;
we drain her like an incubus.
Peccavimus.

A glutton never forsees want
but hopes the feast will last forever
careless of harm that may accrue
to the infinitely forgiving dam;
but if the umbilical cord should sever
the cycle ends, nothing can renew.
Must everything we made end thus?
Peccavimus.

Peccavimus, we all have sinned,
ignored wisdom for easy gain,
turned each from other to cult of self,
traded with the salesman priest,
bought instant pleasure with future pain,
swapped heritage for short term wealth,
thrown truthless prayers at empty skies.
Earth bleeds. May we yet turn the tide.

The prodigal god that men have made
demands only blind servitude,
turns the child against its mother,
deceives with gifts of gold and glory
the highest among nature's brood
and bids the rape go on forever
until womb becomes sarcophagus.
Peccavimus.

Poems on a similar theme
Feel The Burn
54 Degrees North
The Offcomer
Young River
Bitter Fruit

Articles:
Wellspring Of Human Rights
Beware Of Climate Change Scaremongering It may just be promo for catastrophe capitalism.
We Need Nuclear Power

Peccavimus