A 9 Poem
A once thriving land now there's nothing left
Making the world look so desolate and barren
And maybe even somewhat looking bland
Gone is the world's personality it's gone with the wind
All the humans wiped out by genocide
Wiped out by their own hand because they
Only cared about personal gain and not the people themselves
Now have no one but themselves to blame
Not once did they listened to the scientist warning
Now with nothing left on this planet one calls earth
A scientist without a name splits his soul into his nine creations
In hopes that the humans will populate the earth once again
