Blanketed By Man

I stare at the vast blanket of stars draped across the night sky,

I lie in a grassy plain,

Slick, emerald spades of grass compress beneath my body, 

The wind's sweet melody whispering in my ear.

But somehow, something feels different,

Could it be the chilly ice-like weather?

The abundance of a sickly dew scent wafting in the air?

I can't tell.

My vision adjusts to the landscape beside me,

I realise the plain is no longer a lush meadow of allure, 

But devoid of vegetation and life.

The lively fauna that used to roam the lands,

Now run at the thunderous blare of countless machines that only have one goal in mind,

Desiccating the haven provided by the overbearing foliage.

And on tranquil nights when you turn to look above,

You'll see solemn buildings that block the night sky,

You'll see stars missing from their constellations, 

You'll see nothing but a lone pearlescent orb,

Desperately yearning to be seen,

Yet, it's blanketed by the disconsolate creations of man.