The Madness Being Done Poem by James Cayce

An ageing lion, a king no more
hears a distant gun.
And in the shattered silence
knows the killing has begun.
A wave of anger grips him
at the madness being done
by men with hollow hearts
who hide their faces from the sun.

But he has seen them many times
seen them standing here,
watched them take the majesty
and make it disappear.
Watched them burn the forests
blackening the sky
watched his world being ravaged
and can only wonder why.

The courage that has served him well
will not save him today
when death is sent unseen
from a mile or more away.
Fear must be his saviour here
where many monsters are
and glory seekers practice
their bravery from afar.


His spirits weigh him down at the future that he's seen.
He yearns for yesterday when these plains he roamed were green.


When a thousand trees are felled
in the blinking of an eye,
through the shrieking of the chainsaws
who will hear the monkeys cry.
When songbirds have been silenced
and their choirs heard no more
will the skies too all be empty
where once eagles used to soar.

When the flickering of fireflies
has faded and grown cold
will the only light that dazzles
be the glittering of gold.
And when rivers have stopped running,
too sick to reach the sea,
will the sunlight that once danced on them
be just a memory.


And will those who have never seen the wonder in a flower
believe that beauty has no currency in the corridors of power.