The shame of it all

As expected, the Oracle’s message was not a happy one. It seems to me that it fits the images of Paul Brookes’ ekphrastic challenge though. Another unintentional sonnet.

The shame of it all

The world was a wild garden once,
its music strummed by the wind,
sung by the birds,
a garden where women walked without fear,
until someone put his finger to his lips
and laid in wait and shame,
put his strength to destruction,
engendered the sorrow and the pity.
Where wild roses rambled, and the green forest
kept watch, he set an ocean of plastic.
We wander in the desert now,
no flag to unite us, and fear dogs our steps,
that lead only to the murmuring ocean,
cradling the corpses of penguin chicks.