God looks down into the palm of his hand
He holds our world, blue and round.
His face is sad, his expression grim
As he watches upon his precious gem.
Violence and conflict abound
Torture, fighting and hatred all around.
This beautiful planet – his perfect creation
Being torn apart by greed, nation upon nation.
“Why, oh why do they all forget?”
The magical sunrise, the calming sunset
The creatures, the flowers, the trees so tall
Ignored and unappreciated by them all.
As the tears roll down his Divine face,
He fears that his children will lose the race.
Something evil, something bad,
Has taken control of the most beautiful jewel he ever had.
He asks himself, “Where have I erred?
Why did I grant them the gift of choice?
Would they have listened had I raised my voice?”
My perfect creation, blown apart,
They are driven by madness, they have lost their heart.