The aspens are quaking

 

The aspens are quaking.
My hands, they are shaking.
My forehead is sweaty and wan.

The Sun’s in a haze.
The months are now days.
Moonlight is dim, and now, gone.

The forests are crying.
The oceans are dying.
The heavens are laden with tears.

A woman is weeping.
A man is out reaping.
And Hell’s overflowing with fears.