their impurity dampens the luminescent feathers god sent me with.

the worms in the ground soak in the pollution that is man-

from even just their shoes on the ground.

i don't land to eat.

i can't shield myself from the disgrace for my mother nature-

it affects me, too.

it affects my mother and my sisters and little brothers.

my grandmother was flattened by a monstrous, quick moving machine.

what have they done to us?

god sent me with hope-

hope for peace.

god sent me with an ability to heal-

but one can not heal what wants not to be healed.

i haven't healed a thing.

even the plants have been washed in the boiling blood of man.

the green will die.

in fatigue i land, finally.

in regret, i see a moving machine, much faster than me.

should have kept flying.

but now i know.

god sent me with hope, with hope of his own;

he wanted not for us to settle in the mess of the floor,

but instead for us to persevere and find more.