Plastic apocalypse

Where the tide leaves in sorrow,

            where the oceans weep

    beneath the sky’s wide and endless dome,

                 Lies a silent affliction,

a slow creeping bane

                  that shrouds the earth

                        in synthetic foam.

 

   It slithers through rivers,

                      it clings to the trees,

            a cursed creation

                  of humanity’s lore,

    An eternal ghost

                 of our desires,

        a fragment of dreams

                       now festering

                on every shore.

 

        Borne on the breath

                     of a ravenous world,

             where consumption reigns

                     with a ceaseless hand,

    Plastic, the spectre,

           arises unseen,

                         entwining our fate

                               in a synthetic strand.

 

     Its birth was a promise

                     of convenience and ease,

    a future where life

              could be cased in a shell,

           Yet this fragile veneer,

                  so deceptively bright,

       became the harbinger

              of a living hell.

 

In the depths of the sea

             where the corals once bloomed,

                     now lies a desert

                  of toxic remains,

The fish swim through fields

                        of translucent death,

                their bellies distended

                            with poisonous grains.

 

          The albatross soars

                  over islands of waste,

                 where its kin fall prey

           to a cruel disguise,

                          Their nests

               are of bottles,

                       their food but shards,

       and with each new generation,

              the hope dies.

 

         The forests that once breathed

                             the earth’s sweet breath

           are choked by a lattice

                      of threads unseen,

                The trees wear garlands

                   of plastic decay,

                         their roots entwined

                     with the human machine.

 

     Even the winds,

                       once pure and free,

          now carry the burden

                    of man’s decree,

             For every breeze

                   that kisses the land

        leaves behind

             a residue of misery.

 

            In the urban sprawl

          where the streets are alive

           with the hum of progress

                       and ceaseless pace,

      We wonder through the gloom

                           of our own design,

        blind to the slow suffocation

                     we embrace.

 

       Our markets are brimming

                           with treasures galore,

          each trinket encased

                           in a polymer shell,

                   But the true cost

                   is hidden beneath the sheen,

         a price we pay

             as we march toward hell.

 

For every bag

        that is tossed aside,

            every straw

                that is carelessly thrown,

             Adds to the mountain

                    of waste we create,

                    a monument

                           to the seeds we’ve sown.

 

        And though the earth

                     cries out in pain,

        her tears lost

                          in the slothful deed,

     We continue to carve

          our path of despair,

             indifferent

                          to the warnings

                            we fail to heed.

 

       In the dark of night,

                       when the world is still,

         the ghosts of our folly

                 murmur their tales,

         Of creatures that lived

              in harmony

                    with the earth,

                  before the advent

              of plastic’s veils.

 

    But now those voices

         are drowned

                in reactor vessels,

    and the clamour

                   of endless desire,

              And the world

      we once knew,

          the world that was green,

                     is consumed

                        in a microplastic pyre.

 

             Yet there is still time,

                   though the clock ticks away,

        to turn back the tide

                    of our self-made fate,

                To reclaim the world

                  that we’ve lost to decay,

                           and restore it

                to a brighter state.

 

    But it will take more

                than a passing whim,

                    more than a token

          of fleeting care,

   It will take a revolution

                      of the heart,

                 a new way of being,

                     a collective prayer.

 

      For the plastic apocalypse

                           is not a storm

      to wait out

                      and watch,

            It is a slow

                and suffocating plague

      that brings the world

                             to its knees.

 

      But within us lies the power

                   to change,

        to break free

                      from the bonded monomer curse,

           To heal the earth

                              and ourselves,

        to find a new path,

               and to live in a world

                       where care comes first.

 

             So let us rise,

               let us stand as one,

              and cast off

         the yoke of our plastic sin,

         Let us breathe new life

                    into the earth,

            and let the healing

                     of the world begin.

 

     In the end, when the plastic is gone,

                 and the earth is green

                            and whole once more,

                  We will look back

        on this time of change

         and know

                     that we played a role in the cure.

 

         For we will have saved

         ourselves from the brink,

              and given the world

                          a new lease on life,

                      And in doing so,

                       we will have found

               our redemption,

           and ended

                   the reign of plastic’s strife.