A bit more pressure . . .

I’m an old chunk of coal, not much more than carbon.

In the making for millions of years, no harm have I done. 

Made of ancient swap vegetation, much energy do I possess. 

It is humankind, not ancient fossils, that have created a modern mess. 

My formation relies on a process that is tried and true. 

When the process is finished, I become of use to you. 

Today I am held liable for phenomina, like global warming, oh what a shame. 

I’m not the cause, those who abuse me, they are the ones to blame. 

You say that I’m inanimate, just hydrocarbon, an old chunk of coal.

You fail to realize, I’m part of creation, without me the world is not whole. 

Just as a body is no longer perfect when it looses one of its members. 

So the earth suffers when I am reduced to ash, from once glowing embers. 

I thrive and grow when I’m under extreme pressure. 

The value I provide when fully formed is beyond measure.

To you, mere mortals, don’t become too cocksure. 

Your race will meet demise, but coal shall ever endure.