The scorching sun beats down
on the decomposing bodies before my eyes.
Fog and smoke saturate the atmosphere
Beside me, a once-wealthy man painfully dies.
I keep asking myself: “How am I still here?”
Perhaps my wisdom emancipated me
from the inevitable devastation caused by greed.
I built a shelter in the last remaining tree
and filtered acid rain to drown my thirst.
The fruits it bore were tasteless, odourless
but they are responsible for my survival.
Alas, my dream of awakening humanity
has failed those who still worship money.
But I am still breathing, and so are those I adore
Now, at the end of time, I could not ask for more.