These visions of horror, mediated on TV,
Touch my deep self and burn its surface.
I identify with the sufferers and victims
Of the blazing lames devourer of trees.
So majestic, the flames radiate awe,
Impregnating our conscience with guilt.
They are intentional, that is someone saw fit
To ignite them into expressing our flaw:
I ask you, fellow humans, who are we?
We fashion lands, we shape the ground.
Who effects the burning and the droughts,
Is there an elevated figure behind the TV?
No moral exists behind the burning,
Nothing but pain and sorrow shared
Among communities fond of watching
Dying trees, dying men, falling like leaves shed.