Natures Crime

As the windless rain patters,

And nature whimsically scatters,

The prey at bay, its hunt is gay,

The catch it matters.

The sun, rising ever slow,

Around the earth it goes,

And morn and night,

An endless plight.

Upon then still, the winds of time,

Will change their blow, unknown and strewed.

Clinched, and caught, trapped in a box.

And eaten in prelude.

And finally dine, the mouths of kings,

Natures crime, golden rings.