I am a political activist.
Life's beauty is my specialty.
I love nature.
---------------------------------
Nature had plotted how to kill me -
It would catch me on a spring morning walk.
The birds would greet me with their
Mistrusting eyes, whilst they watched from
The lonesome skies.
Nature would not know me,
But it saw in my face
The reckless destruction of my race.
A plot of revenge had been carefully knitted -
I would slip on the grass in the morning dew,
And crash into the arms of the lake.
The weeds would rope my legs;
My hands would reach out in
Desperation, but would not find blue sky.
Murky windows would encase me;
My lungs would empty the air that I had
Stolen – and they would fill, heavy,
With the horrid matter of the lake,
My last words would only exist
In the last bubbles to escape my lips,
And the soft bed of the lake
Would become my grave.
Then nature would be quiet again -
There would be a pleased silence
At having exacted a small revenge
On the human race.
