Sorrowful like an elephant,
When the calf died,
My heart is a storm,
Weeping loudly, "I despise your disregard, Ocean."
The love that was denied,
"You destroyed the divine design,"
Now replaced by jungles and savannahs of plastic and waste,
The brightness of flora and fauna has dimmed,
For today's gratification, as if there's no tomorrow.
Do you expect me to remain calm?
My waves crash and roar like an elephant's trumpet,
Foam spewing from my tiny eyes,
A mournful melody moves my heart,
Is my heart dead or alive with vengeance?
My children, the cheerful fish, are dying.
The fish once frolicked, laughing with me,
Making my heart merry and pure,
My wrinkles were washed away,
Every day was a ballet show,
A daily delight,
The fish were a mosaic,
A sunlit display.
They kept their vibrant colors with my help,
Now they bob up and down the water like tiny ships,
Each telling a silent tale,
People casually trawling the fish,
Poisoning them and piercing my heart,
Anguishing my soul,
A reminder of what once was.
The mangroves were in sync with my pulse,
They were your protectors, humans,
A barrier between my waves and your homes,
They cooled me like a natural air conditioner,
Cooling my veins and calming my fury,
But my fury will be your harvest.
Beneath the surface, in the melodic depths,
Corals once thrived and created,
A vibrant city sealed by my nature,
Now it's monochromatic and silent,
Would you mind if I destroyed homes?
With the strength of an elephant,
I use my water tusks to wreck everything,
Waves colliding, slapping the land,
Taking every morsel,
Even my small waves roar and babble,
Gurgling in unison,
There's no more place to hide.
The roots of revenge run deep in my blood,
I charge, submerging homes.
Let's heed my warning,
The last tale of sorrow and remembrance,
Before the last animal and plant say goodbye,
This is a testament for time, the final cry.
In the year when corals turn to stone,
When children ask, "Why are there no more fish?",
I will come, and that's when I'll see you no more,
Just wait until I reach your shore,
Six more years until your doom,
I'm plotting for the day I'll fume.
YOU ARE READING
A whisper of words
RandomThis is poetry and also short stories, but don't look for a theme-it's like a buffet of randomness! This is my first attempt at a poem collection, so bear with me while I unleash my 'unique' writing skills.
