Victims Of Ourselves Poem by Herman Sequira

The glory of a newborn day, now lost in mists of smog,
And sunsets hide behind a veil of gray, polluted fog.
The moon is but a muted glow and stars no longer shine.
Celestial lights have disappeared, disguising God's design.

Oceans blue have lost their hue, no surf of foaming white,
No place to go, where there's a show of nature's true delight.
Lakes and rivers, ponds and streams have no more waters clear;
Mother Nature's lost the fight, because we did not care.

All around the signs were there, we knew that this could be,
It was our choice, a silent voice, and we refused to see.
We turned a blind eye to our fate, ignored the warning cry,
Continuing to block our minds, the truth we did deny.

We're not there yet, but getting near, with every passing year.
Our progress has created much, and yet we must despair.
We've gained a lot, but lost too much, a heavy price to pay.
When will we see what faces us, a world in fast decay?

In years to come, if we're still here, will we be wond'ring why
We live in such a dismal place, beneath a darkened sky?
Just one look in history books, from off the dusty shelves,
We'll find the truth recorded there, we're victims of ourselves.