Melancholy is strong,
but my art is stronger.
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Melancholy in my tears,
as they flew through years,
Melancholy in my veins,
Playing hurtful games.
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Once they decided to plant a tree, That can help the humans, animals and birds free. Provided it with water, sunlight enough, He grew bigger, stronger and tough.
Initially taken good care, Today the tree is very sad. He wonders, people who planted him disappeared where? Nobody cares about him, he feels bad.
Humans snatched away his barks, leaves, fruits . Killed all his friends, Weakened his roots. Just because they wanted to meet their ends.
Life is just like that, First you are rooted then fruited. They all present when needed. Taken good care when cultivated
Then stopped thinking about you, For you, cared only few. Went through many disasters. Fought them like warriors.
Always met their expectations, Stood with them in terrible situations, Remembered you, for their selfish motives, And " Be a tree " They quoted.
~ Nishita makwana
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