On the first year,
Many said,
I'm better to be lying in bed;
This wrong turn we have taken quick,
Is making my body so damn sick.
On the second year,
Many cried.
It seems the leaders took a wrong side,
And when the subject came to light,
They used their big mouths and lied.
On the third year,
Deserts form,
Changed from good, then bad, then worse.
The plants that rode the sandy waves,
Were forced to end their days in caves.
On the fourth year,
Europe sunk.
And the forests, flooded trunks,
Stole the air straight from the sky;
It seems all life was now to die.
On the fifth year,
The Earth stood still.
The spacial spinning,
Oh, fade the thrill;
6 months of day, 6 months of night;
It seems no doomsday was quite right.
On the sixth year,
Man was sick.
The weakness of their world had hit,
An all time low, and their it stayed.
Their wooden crosses, how they fade.
On the seventh year,
Half the Earth went cold.
So cold in fact,
It reminisced the old.
Yet opposite the greater freeze,
The sun still shone on to please,
Humans who dropped to their knees.
On the eighth year,
The air did thin;
It seemed the Earth was soon to win,
An ancient war against our kinds flaws;
For to long we had broke the laws.
On the ninth year,
The north did fade;
And in the water,
Dead bodies wade.
To float on south to lower shores,
The humans were to lose the war.
On the tenth year,
The living run;
To brand new countries,
Formed out of none;
It was obvious now,
The world had won.
Humankind now weighed a tonne.
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