It is being shredded,
torn through the guts,
and fed to the hungry, hungry souls.
No— they need not concern themselves
of what they strip, uproot, and pollute 
for these skies, these fields will be long after 
the passing of these hurried feet;
and the winds will wrap around the wounds  
left by these clawed hands, as if,
it had never parted.
And should the hungry void break 
the whirling blue for its nectar; 
its debris floating into space. 
The distant stars would laugh ruefully 
that we had sought to defy something
that always is, and mourn too
for in it is our salvation,
and the glorious seeking
of permanence.