The Scream Edvard Munch ( another view of why and who)

The scream
that Munch heard
was a real scream al’right
as he walked on the path
the city in sight
sprawling ever skywards
and country wards too
swallowing fjords
and mountains, the view
of the fjords of the peace
of the quiet, of the scene
of the nature of silence
and of wildness
the scream
came with the wind
with the light
from his heart
beating within his chest
how could he start
to imagine
that people
were stealing the spaces
put there by Nature
all those crazy faces
wrinkled and miserable
bankers and builders
costing the earth
with their dollars
and guilders
he heard the scream
from the birds in the sky
from the heavens above
all wondering why
yes around there
encroachment was rife
he didn’t feel well
they were taking his life
his world of contentment
his peace and his soul
building and wielding their axes
a mole
a rabbit
a hog in the grass
what chance they?
the people are coming
to take them away
he heard the scream
and he painted it and
no doubt he prayed
that they protect
their land