This Dying Earth

Some distant hurt is clutching my heart so tightly I cannot breathe. News from around the world flows in front of my eyes making me feel ill and helpless. I am unable to understand how people around me can talk about these tragedies with passing coolness. Do they feel nothing? Can they not hear the screams and tears? I can, I have to work hard to close them off, if I let them in I will become consumed with their condition and paralyzed by a sad madness.

In this world, there is a need for the human race to put our differences aside and ease the suffering, our sickness has infested the plants and the animals, and rooted deep into the earth. Yet we still kill and abuse. Those of us who are aware carry the pain on our backs and in our hearts. While the rest are blissfully unaware, praying to beings that have long since stop listening. The work to fix our condition begins within, no amount of money can repair the damage, we must heal our hearts first.

If each person could extend a hand to help, just one more person soon we would reach the world and just maybe some of this decay would stop. Even now, I cry for people I have never met in places I have never been. Does anyone else bare this burden, do you hear?