Faerie Tales iv/v

We all want the perfect world
Clean air, fresh water, the natural repopulation of the living
Blooming flowers in a meadow
Trees that soar through valleys and hill tops
Wild life that is, well, Wild!
We’ve grown to destroy all that we want
This perfect world
Is Dying
At the hands that tears at the roots
So that it becomes extinct
One by one until nothing left
Maybe one day we’ll figure it out
And leave the roots behind to grow