Thursday, August 8, 2013

My Words, My Lines

The rain, the cloudy sky,
The green, the brimming river flowing by,
The mountains, the whispering wind,
The sounds that lessened.
The concrete jungle, oh where am I?
The birds so quiet, the beasts no longer sigh.
Is this how I should enjoy nature?
Where is her unaffectedness, her stature?
Her serenity, her real self?
I am not sorry, what she did herself,
The wrath of hers is our folly reversed,
What is her sin, for which she is cursed?
I write what I behold, not fantasy, the real deal,
The destruction, the love we peel.
Soon, we shall be left devoid,
What is there, to fill the void?
Nature is nothing, concern long forgotten,
The 'Save Nature' methods outdated and rotten.
Look back, or peek into the future,
Your eyes shall behold, what your actions longed it to be,
Content you shall be when this gift is not to be,
For then there shall be no existence, neither you nor me.