Funeral Of Nature

Sunlight is playing its symphony through the clouds of smog,

Day is turning into the night while she takes a longer breath,

Wishes that carbon monoxide was her food and oxygen is what she could exhale.

But that is what the tree did,

Yes, there used to be a tree!

That long-standing bark of wood laden with green foliage,

Ohh, was it the only oxygenator?

Shit, I saw it being cut and I walked away.