The Parasites Poem by James Walter Orr

I stand alone, my body sick.
My fever elevates.
Nigh overcome by parasites,
Their damage ne’er abates.

Oh, how they irritate my skin,
And let their damage build.
Their toxins still accumulate.
Each year cuts back my yield.

Each day new warnings come to light:
The point of no return
Approaches with increasing speed,
But still my fevers burn.

I watch the poisons spread across
What once was virgin skin:
Infections, scabrous, without cure,
Attacking, digging in.

The parasites destroy themselves,
For when my life is gone,
They will have naught to nourish them,
No host to feed upon.

Could be the only hope for man,
Lies with some distant race,
For when I die, then man is gone,
Unless some live in space.

Shall I be happy when I die?
Oh no, I’ll be so sad.
I am the earth, and when I’m gone,
So goes the chance you had.