Exhausted

The sky has turned black
The sun is burning red
Our seeds are spoiled
Our brains are dried

Once a blooming playground
Now a loathsome dump
Everything is dying
There is not much left

Searing winds are raging
Putrid floods approaching
Our miserable lives
Will soon end abruptly

Violently erased
From our mother's surface
Cockroaches will feast
On our pitiful remains