The Purge

The forceful winds rip and tear at the harmful fancies of humanity,
As if to sweep aside a pestilence that gnaws daily at the fabric of its skin.
Every gust bellows with ever louder protest and even more anger,
Then deluge storms to wash it clean.
Waves rock with swirling rage, and tempest winds spin wildly in furious confusion,
For pestilence is blight, and smite meets blight,
Scrub it cleansed it will and must.
Tsunami’s lift, and torrents roar,
To smash all humans from its shores,
These crappy stewards just serve themselves,
While planet suffers from broken trust.
Same indifference.