Read Three Cups of Tea

Our Earth is Wounded.
Her oceans and lakes are sick
Her rivers are like running sores
The air is filled with subtle poisons,
And the oily smoke of countless hellish fires
Blackens the sun.
Men and women, scattered from homeland, family, friends
Wander desolate and uncertain, scorched by a toxic sun.
In this desert of frightened, blind uncertainty,
Some take refuge in the pursuit of power.
Some become manipulators of illusion and deceit
If wisdom and harmony still dwell in this world
As other than a dream lost in an unopened book
They are hidden in our heartbeat
And it is from our hearts that we cry out
We cry out and our voices are the single voice of this wounded earth
Our cries are a great wind across the earth.
From the Warrior song of King Gassar

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