A light pierces through the thick white clouds

Marija Ilikj

A light pierces through the thick white clouds,
It is the home to diverse crowds.
Some are sleeping, others are wide awake,
It all depends on what is at stake.
For some the blue-green ball is a resource,
That can be endlessly abused.
For others the planet is mother nature,
That should be protected by legislature.

While crowds accuse each other of her decay,
The ones on top are here to stay.
Like phantoms they roam around,
They are neither lost nor found.
They swing their swords left and right,
Covering her in bloody fright.
In the night a knight awakes,
He will free her, whatever it takes.

Look at her from above,
Tell me! What do you see?

I see a tender Princess,
Waiting to be freed.