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