Once the world greened again, saplings and weeds crept through tarmac, groaning as they pushed through the surface, letting the air cleanse their lungs, like a lick of honey upon a famished tongue. and this is how things are naturally. And in the lands you felled, flesh sprouted on broken branches and birthed the New Deer, whose antlers flourished with leaves. they stumbled to their feet, stretched their limbs, and ambled into the New Frontier, like the rush of fresh water into a stagnant pond. and this is how things are naturally? Your flower beds, designed and ordered, trembled as they heard the New Deer enclose, bursting through fences, trampling your hedges. our boundaries rotted away with the last of us, and your work you wanted us to look on, dissolves in the New Deer’s stomach. But two bucks, face-to-face, foe-to-foe, Quarrelled over the last flower, clashed their heads, Shredded the leaves from their tines bare, As a heavy wind broke on their head, Their wounds bathed soil with blood. the jackdaws sang their dirge, the swans mute. And this is how things are, Naturally.