Poetry

To Nature’s Woes: A Lament for the Dying Earth

Oh, cruel fate, that doth so cruelly harm

Our fragile earth, so bountiful and fair.

Thy scorching sun doth raise the oceans’ arm,

And floods the land with salt and bitter air.

                                                       

The forests fall, the rivers dry, the sands

Do shift and change, and all the creatures flee.

The skies are choked with smoke and dust and sands,

And all is lost in thy malignity.

                                                       

The cities swelter in the heat, the poor

Are crushed beneath the weight of want and woe.

The rich do mock them, and do nothing more

Than sit and watch the world they helped to sow.

                                                       

But hark! The voice of Nature doth cry out

In rage and sorrow, and doth all about

Call on the guilty to repent and mend

Their ways before it is too late, and all

Is lost forever in the fiery end.

                                                       

Oh, let us take heed, and do all we can

To heal the wounds that we have made, and ban

The use of fossil fuels that doth destroy

Our earth, and all the creatures it employs.

                                                       

For if we do not act, and act soon,

We’ll find ourselves in the eternal swoon

Of a world that’s dead, and we, its murderers,

Shall live on in the memory of the curse.

                                                                       

~Aman Rajput 

Gaya, India

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