As this earth marches toward another twilight ravaged by greed and ignorance, I write these poems to convey to the besieged generations to come, those that will preside over the final plunder and irrevocable destruction of our once green planet, to provide a sense of what was once best in man. I do this so that we will not be judged and remembered entirely for our failed guardianship and conveyance of the unearned riches that were once bestowed upon us, but also for the occasional and rare flickerings of nobility that animated some of our kind. So judge and remember us not for our perfidy but grant us that we were once touched also by goodness, as these poems will attest. Let this be a requiem to last until words are no more. An elegiac cry to commemorate not only man but the countless, ill-fated, voiceless sentient beings that through a lamentable turn of fate were consigned to share this waning earth with us in the depravity and debasement of our time. Remember that their souls and worth were no lesser than ours, and perhaps more glorified through their innocent suffering. And though they may not have commended their voices and stories to page, their song was greater than ours. I Have Been a Poet I have been a poet and that is enough But these lines are not my lines They were written long before I was born Before I ever thought to write them down Before there were mountains or rivers, stars or firmament They were read long before there was anyone to see They were heard long before there was anyone to hear
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