Towards the murky water's edge. He stops and he stares over the ledge, Probing the water for its hidden secrets. He wonders how it is that something so beautiful, As the sparkling blue sea of past could become The grey, frigid waters he sees before him. He wonders how the tall stately trees behind, Became the hollow shells of what they once were. Behind yet further, the once lush green hills, Are barren, and frozen and dull. The only life is a lone crow sitting on a log, Wings ruffled in the wind, scavenging for any living things Not the graceful gulls of long ago. The man watches dully as flotsam washes up on the shore He can remember times when the water was clear And not strewn with old tossed away things When the trees were full and lively In which birds sat and sang melodies And the hills behind were dotted with flowers, Which man and creature alike could enjoy. The man climbs on his steed, disheartened, It was not so long ago that the world was different, And why has it had to change now? After millions of years of having no such negative change. It is not how he remembered it, even a few seasons ago He wonders, as he rides away, how many years will pass Before it once again becomes the beautiful world he once knew.
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