Dear, Mother Nature,
I am writing to inform, that in your gusts; torrential showers, you make a question storm.
You’re alive like me, thus, you make your decisions, thus by your design, you create some self-incisions. As, the parts of you that are damp, you re-choose to be wet, and you neglect to moisturise, the parts called deserts.
There are some of us, that praise you, for both light and the crop, but in ancient tantrums played, you never seem to stop, the Trent is now bulging, New Orleans has no stamina, such tributes are silenced in Sub-Saharan Africa, due to your misplaced choice, meaning nothing can improve, surely, we talking monkeys are not force enough to move.
So, please, if you have it in you, stop being so deranged, we are toddlers compared to you, so stop this climate change, prove to those that pray to you, you truly are the light, but if you continue with such a squall, it’s another reason to fight. We’ll continue to bleed on you, ever so profusely, erring is our nature, surely you can see, but there are some of us, like I, who live to make a try, but when you’re ripping it all apart, all alive does die.
Again, I do implore you, to be more judicious, as to me, times run out, to continue being vicious, all I can do is attempt to smile, and to live hopefully, I hope this message gets to you.
Yours faithfully.