The Black Virgin Calls


My voice is heard in the haunting winds singing through the trees of  Virgin Forest. Remembering the names of every species that has been lost: plant, animal, vegetable or mineral. Whose life forces has been carelessly cut.

My heart has been rendered through drilling and fracking tearing away my flesh,  leaving me naked, exposed and stripped of my resources and natural beauty.

Do you hear my anger? As my mountains erupt. My blood flows like hot lava burning and destroying, consuming and purging  calling humanity to listen.

My gifts are precious the air you breathe the food from my breast. My water that provide life to every living thing. My fertility has been tampered, my seeds have been distorted.

Waste lands of concrete neon signs where lost souls wander in deep dissatisfaction looking outside and not inside. Projection upon projection of layers of  illusion upon illusion, desires upon desires which reflects {one does not have…

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