In Whose Image Are We Made?

I beseech you all.
Pray, tell me —  in honesty.
Who are we Earthlings.
Behaving as if like gods.
Rather — misbehaving folks?

With no empathy.
Miscreants of Planet Earth.
Our hearts are hardened.
Poisoning all resources —
Provisions for living things.

With Life so cheapened.
Everything returns to dust.
With no displeasure.
Sitting on our ashen thrones.
Observing our own demise.

We are false prophets.
In whose image are we made?
Not The Almighty.
Fallen Angels then we are.
Enfolded by our darkness.

We see the sunrise.
Yet reaching for the sunset.
All gods without light.
Destroyers — not creators.
Spawned in Lucifer’s workshop.

Our children ask us:
“How did this madness begin?”
We stare with blindness.
For darkness is what we know.
Hiding — with our silences.

The Earth is weeping.
The permafrost is melting.
Acid rain comes down.
Strange chemical solution.
For miscreants of the Earth.

This is our madness.
Mother Earth must not be blamed.
In times of Eden.
We were charged as guardians.
Now blinded  — and without light.