When you know just how your world could end

One year ago a line was crossed.

A clear line in the sand.

One year ago the reef was lost.

And still we failed to understand.

Decades earlier they warned;

This rock we ride could crack,

The world will falter if it warmed,

And soon there'll be no turning back.

That giving in to corporate greed,

Will kill the things we really need,

And everything required to drive,

The wheels of what keeps us alive.

But we preferred the psychopaths,

Who promised us, despite the maths,

That anything our heart desires,

In infinite supply, requires...

... That all we have to do is drill,

And dig, and burn, and trust the shill,

Who's paid to make us doubt our eyes,

And keep us spending with their lies.

A year ago, the first great sign,

That we had truly crossed that line,

Was seen writ large, across the reef,

As rising heat, without relief,

Turned acres white, which then grew slime,

Our captains are now out of time.

And now the final double tap,

As summer's fierce new fires sap,

The Reef's capacity to live,

And thus to us her gifts to give.

A second year, and in a row,

Of fields of corals, white as snow,

And while we watch, our old friend die,

Our vapid vampire captains lie…

“We’re doing everything, within our means,

To mask the destruction and dress up the scenes,

(Except for the one thing that actually works;

We’re not touching carbon or we’ll lose our perks)”.

And yet we entertain them, as they volley back and forth,

Between shutting up the greenies, and “Developing the North”

And all the while the temperature, is going through the roof,

And while psychopathic doubt merchants, pour mud upon the proof...

We watch her take on lurid hues,

We watch her fade to whites and blues.

We watch the slime replace the flesh,

We watch as nature's webs un-mesh.

We watch the tilt of natures scales,

We’ll watch until the whole thing fails.

No, those who still yet strip her bones,

Have not got ears for nature's groans.

And like the parasites they are,

Their depredations go too far.

That’s because our leadership, is crooked in it’s core,

And the voice of every one of you is muted by the roar,

Of the dollars pouring down their troughs as their feeders throw them ever more,

You know the names, and what they did,

You’ll know the cost as well, in time,

As landscapes wide fail in their bid,

To outlast the human paradigm.

Crops might flower as insects sleep,

Just to throw it round,

And thus no pollen makes the leap,

With scarcity, you’ll pay the pound.

A storm that would have missed your town,

When jet-streams knew their place,

Is spinning up and bearing down,

With extra heat the jet-streams race.

A million mechanisms make,

The world that you can see,

A million fragile parts to break,

Not noticed till they cease to be.

You would see the same great scene,

If just you spent the time,

And once you saw it; you’d be Green,

You’ll fall in love with simple slime.

You’ll see the deep connections,

Upon which we depend,

You’ll cry for deep protections,

When you know just how your world could end.