A dying earth does bloom my distress, Spawned by affection for creatures less. Nights filled with a fearful unrest, Too deep for wilted habitats' redress. Their innocence calls for fervent action, Through deafening roars of dire faction. We learn, though the issue's expansion, Every hand can leave a lasting faction. So swift the plight, this climate change, In its path, dreadfully strange. Yet, heart to hand, we rearrange, Power resides within our range.