Epitomime of Fallen Grace

Echoing whispers of wind sing,
And a crash resonates once more.
Droplets of dew- no, they... sting?
Collapse aimlessly on the forest floor.

My graceful bottlenose, diving serenly,
But a needle has pierced your leathery flesh!
A scany diet of poisoned meat,
Intoxicated, your home no longer fresh.

African Savanna, your sun rises early,
To the sound of a now decaying world.
Listen to the tortured cry of the hunted,
Into pain they are forevermore hurled.

City streets, you are so lonely!
Not a single heart pulses to comfort your pain.
And music, sweet music- it beats from nowhere,
To alert my senses that this world is insane.