We Have Become A Horde – a poem.

We have become a horde.

We are too many.

We are demons,

Legion,

A curse on this planet.

This world cannot sustain

The weight of us.

Nothing can withstand us.

Our sheer numbers

Overwhelm everything, everywhere.

All are crushed by our feet,

Sixteen billion soles,

Trampling over the world

And all that’s in it.

Nothing stands in our way.

We cannot even stop

Ourselves.

We are the problem.

We know it’s us,

But none of us,

Not one of us,

Knows how to stop our seed

From being spread

Like pernicious weeds

That choke all things to death.

The holy men

Since ancient times

Have urged us all

To make more of ourselves.

A dirty trick.

Make more of us

Than heathen men,

Whoever they may be,

And we will win

This proliferate war

Through weight of numbers,

By making more than them.

The heathen men

Heard much the same,

And the human race

Began.

We need to make not more but less

We ought to pray for doom.

Come friendly germs

And fall on us,

On all the unfit humans now.

For we won’t stop,

We’ll leave it to some other,

Or put it off,

Leave it to the future,

Wheneverland,

Like Neverland, a fiction.

The eco-warriors

Fight the good fight,

But it’s a war they cannot win.

The only solution

Is utter destruction

Of all our kith and kin.

The urge to procreate,

The will to life,

Is the thing that will kill us all

In the end.