By Isra Tahiya Islam

A dance of greed, a Grand jeté

There the clock chimes in a solemn May

 A quivering Atlas deep in his slumber

Bewares, “the 90th grain is slipping away”

Gaia weeps, her tears descend,

On lands once emerald, now gray they blend.

The silent Willow with limbs so frail,

Whispers sins and secrets of an ancient tale,

The rivers so still, once fierce and free,

Buried beneath the waves, cried a tragic plea,

,

Birds sing the prayers of a dwindling hope,

Their melodies fading on a fraying rope.

The Sapiens smirk, breathing in the silicons

Lost in the maze of skysails as redemption beacons 

“One more grain of sand,” shuddered Atlas at last

Between hubris and humility, you shall see the dawn 

or turn to dust.