Our beautiful nature, where we do live in, is very queer,
It's whimsical, nothing is predicted on its nature.
There is no control over it, we have no dominant power,
We are poor players in the hands of erratic nature.
Let have a look into the past, it was so beautiful,
It's atmosphere was genial, calm and cool.
We used to take fresh breath sitting in the lap of nature,
The nature had its own beauty; we were worshipper of Her.
There was a good co-existence among the members of the forest,
Man's cordial relation with them was close to closest.
We never had a quarrel, none was our enemy,
Always had a good rapport with peaceful symphony.
Now the situation turns into reverse, animal kingdom is in extinction,
Wild lives are not safe due to random deforestation.
Man is sagacious but at the same time very audacious,
To fullfill his greedy dreams, acts like an unscrupulous.
The nature takes revenge upon man! Gradually she changes her nature,
Very hot in summer, irregular rain in rainy season and little cold in winter.
The balance of Nature breaks down! Everything is in disorder,
We need to kindle our sense to treat nature as our mother.
YOU ARE READING
Sitting Under a Torn Umbrella
PoetryMan is for man - this is an old slogan today. It has lost its uniqueness for the cause of self-centred mentality. Now we cannot hear the chorus songs of unity. Rather the sound of cacophony always do disturb our hearing organ by imposing acute dispa...
