Brainstorming with superificial reality.
Sphere of life, hanging-on for dear breath.
Raising the inner core, to extreme measure.
Mother Earth is enter a clear, present, danger.
Storm's of hell, rising like the silver sulfer.
8 day's later, total destruction.
Man on this planet, causing earth gravesite.
Green day, is are only hope.
Without life, this planet be a dying breed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem