A Mother's Nature

She breathed.
Inhale. Exhale.
A slight, shallow sniff.
Lungs ablaze
a burning wildfire creeps and crawls
prying her tarnished tonsils agape--
painted over with a shining dark obsidian
of slick crude oils
of black gold.
Her undying cough echoes
hacking through the parched trees
withering in soil decorated with abysmal fissures.
Tears stream down her face
caustic,
acid biting at her raw cheeks.
Her blistering wounds heal
only to be torn apart by her children.
Her children, whom plague her of waste
of melted plastics and trashed metals
that bleed out her heart.
Her treasures and efforts robbed daily, only to be returned
ravaged and wrecked.
A sacrifice, resignation.
For her children. That's what mothers do;
Provide, until incapacitated
Give, until depleted.
One day her children will look back
at a loss, accompanied by a tide wave of regrets
sorrow.
Crying acid tears, after taking her for granted.
Her our mother,
her nature.