Ghostlimb, Control: We need your help!

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by Ghostlimb

Our surroundings do not beseech us for our control
For what we do not know
The grains of sand that erode away
From our shrinking beaches
From senescent chaparral
To the sinking cities on an alluvial plain
Our meandering rivers have never been so straight
The effectiveness can only be bought for so long
By the citizens whose disillusionment
Is crowded by the weight of the blame
On the hazardous state's inability to control
The uncontrollable
While people sit singing silent songs
As they wash away into the granite gray

Contributed by Lincoln P. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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