Slow poisioning of the trees, the seas, the land..
Children grow without a loving, guiding hand..
It’s all for sale, no honor left…. all gain
A pall hangs on my soul of grief and pain

My dreams live in a time I knew..now gone…
I see the trees weep for what they knew so long..
So alone in my senses though they’re real..
Heavy is the burden of “to feel”….

Yet on a foggy morn my spirit flies
The salty air, a freshening wind my aching dies
Beauty all around me if I see
A loyal friend returns to set me free