One Man Alone

What if tomorrow is not like today?
What if the things I wanted to say
are lost in the winds of permanent change,
friends are gone and all that remains
is one man who walks the world alone,
a man who invites the lifeless stones
to sing the last chorus of the very last song?

Where did we err?  Tell me, what went wrong?
I am cursed to live my days and nights
among mountains and trees, beautiful sights
crafted as gifts to the human race,
but there was no smile on the angel's face
as she boarded the fluffy, departing cloud
and spoke to me, the one-man crowd:
Make friends with the stones, unfortunate man,
for all this is yours, and here you stand
alone, abandoned by the source of your soul.
The warnings were there and you were told
that killing the earth would exact a price,
but you turned your back to that sacred advice.
You pillaged and raped the vulnerable earth,
the dirt God scooped up to give you birth.
So, now it's yours, all that you see.
This is the way it will always be.

If all my tomorrows are just like today,
to whom shall I kneel and honestly say:
I'm desperately sorry for the pain of the land,
the pain I've caused with these greedy hands.
Is it too late for mercy, too late to forgive?
What can I offer?  What can I give
to buy one more chance before it's too late?
Completely alone?  Is that my fate?
I so regret the seeds I've sown,
for here I stand, completely alone.