The Miniature Pen That Shaken The Earth

My pen fears the end of paradise.

The flight of alligator wings crosses
the line of peace, ignoring the world body
of human nuclear doves.

Those who are against peace, those who
bow to the power of mischievous thorns
ever lived. The thought of your selfish
hunger angers my tiny ballpoint ink,
scratching the smoothed surface
of fibre pulp sitting in my desk.
Your sickening aura not worth of
fattening camera, breaks the crystal mirror
my ancestors built. Those who are
soak in guilt.

Don’t you fear the end of universe?

My pen begs you.
Spare the lives of innocent birds whose
only weapons are the food in their beaks
and the toil of their slimy, soiled feet. To live,
all they wish is to breathe the fresh morning and
to smell the Cherry Blossoms in the Spring.

Think about it.
The theme of vigils underneath the moon,
hides in darkest dungeons encrusted
with splatter paint, knowing the dangers
lie ahead of them.

Earth was created with its lands and seas
so vast, to bury the greed and evil
heads even of the last human.
No royal blood can be spared.
All humans are meant to die and
turn into granulated molecules of grey ashes.
No power can save you.
No soldier can give you shield.
Do not wait till the alligator wings
fly back to you and vaporize into thin air.
And so, you will miss the pretentious comfort
of your miniaturized, fiery bedroom designed
like warheads.

Think again,
if you want to wake up each morning with
breakfast of scrambled eggs and toasted bread,
sipping the aroma of civet cat coffee served
in your expensive Wenge table.

Muse on
and live longer
united with Peace.

Ymatruz is the author of poetry book: The Coffee Cries Foul. She founded PoetsGig.com hoping to accommodate works of other poets and writers, anywhere in the world. She also writes about her blogging and migration experience on PoetsGig. Her motto: "By experience you learn. By embracing mistakes, you become a master of perfection."
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