Pollution
Ming Mong I am Ming Mong King Of the land named, Brockendoorbell My subjects Stand before me Hey liege they shout The Sun It's gone out Please Stop burning our forests And Polluting them streams Our sages talk Of Frightening dreams My liege Ming Mong What could this mean? I try to look regal Aloof like the Preening bird That hides, under it's wings Now come, things are not as bad As they seem Maybe no Salmon But Trout still run up Our streams Who needs the day We all have the Night Lets not... Sign in to see full entry.