In a land of greed and disregard,
Where rivers once flowed wild and hard,
The Ezava's banks now bear the mark,
Of trees felled down, a forest stark.
Men with axes, hearts so cold,
Clearing a path for mines of gold,
They chop and hack, with no restraint,
Ignoring nature's loud complaint.
The forest weeps, its voice unheard,
As chainsaws echo, like a curse,
Birds flee their nests, in desperate flight,
Leaving behind a world less bright.
Gone are the trees, once tall and grand,
Now replaced by scars upon the land,
The river weeps, its tears unseen,
As toxic waste pollutes its sheen.
Unregulated mining takes its toll,
As profits rise, so does the soul,
Of a land once rich, in nature's grace,
Now buried deep in a mining race.
The consequences, oh so clear,
Yet blind eyes turn, without a fear,
For money talks, and forests weep,
As greed digs in, its promises cheap.
So let this be a cautionary tale,
Of what befalls when greed prevails,
For when the last tree's cut down in strife,
We'll realize, too late, the cost of life.
ABOUT AUTHOR: Kevin Makova
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