Predator of Nature

I feel a sense of haste thrust out towards the coast, All motions disturbed and turned to one way, The sea has made the work of man its host, Life once hidden in trenches to see light of day, When the lonely lion lies longing for its own, Licking a hole inflicted long ago, Issue she had never seen fully grown, Trying to grasp who should now be her foe, If ears could hear the muted screeches of the green, Would hearts be swayed enough for hands to stop? Must pain through eyes always be seen? Or would rain wash away branches bloody and chopped? When sleeping heads on cussions have finally awoken, Let the barren land once roamed be our token.