God created Mother Nature,
gave her the power to nurture,
Little did he know they would torture,
their own loving Mother.
From her were born air and water,
Our dear brother and sister,
Land was born due to culture,
To sustain houses and agriculture.
From them were born trees, plants,
They cater to Man's selfish wants;
All that he asks, Mother grants
But Man kills her by Nuclear plants.
The land pleaded with melancholy,
"I am your sister, don't spoil me!
I am precious and homely, don't trade me;
ruthlessly like a slave, for money!"
Brother Air turns poisonous,
just like Man's hearts are venomous.
He has forgotten to be generous,
and dirties the air, how monstrous!
Water cried tears of agony,
"I am your sister, don't destroy me!
I am everyone's equally, so don't divide me....
I am pure and lively, don't spoil me!"
Mother Nature went to God to complain,
Her own children were causing her pain,
Trees mercilessly cut, animals inhumanly slain,
Fighting over holy land as domain.
They render all harmony in vain,
Men trade their values in bargain,
Quarrels over rivers occur again,
Barbaric gentlemen conquer terrain.
God replied, "Sufferings here, Behold!
This has long been foretold!
Now, we have hopes on our real gold,
which is, our wise youth and mature old.
If this devastation continues,
if you and your family are abused,
Then, by all means, diffuse
Take revenge through calamity profuse."
YOU ARE READING
A Warrior's Songs
Poetry"I believe that Poetry is the aesthetic act; that poetry is not the poem, for the poem may be nothing more than a series of symbols. Poetry, I believe, is the poetic act that takes place when the poet writes it, when the reader reads it, and it alwa...
