Crumbling leaves…No, They are fragments of lives – Aiswarya T Anish

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when will MAN fathom his inexorable peril?

As he rampages through time, oblivious of the devil.

Vaporising the last drop of tears

While drilling into mother earth’s ears.

But he, insatiable in his sinful thirst

Lets riots in his kingdom burst.

Starts war at the drop a hat, spilling blood like wine out of a vat.

Poor dumb animals are used for sports,

Their shrieks and cries dying in their throats.

Man has always been like this

Ignorant and callous in his cruel bliss.

Under a pale sky, in torn shifts run vagrant kids-

An agony of   helplessness   in their midst.

Like morning-coffee, which has no sweetness or stimulation

Each day bringing  bitterness and desolation.

People in shacks built on quicksand

With no semblance of hope at hand.

Paintings of life   roughly drawn,

Showing   lines of pain instead of brawn.

 When the unfortunates  extend  a  bowl

For a kind  deed  from  a  helping soul,

You  exit  leaving scores of pleading eyes

In frail bodies…..silently weeping.

But can you deny

that those heart-breaking departures

are  the ones you see day and night, night and day

when you live and when you die?

Angels play on broken fiddles

Muted sorrows as they churn out those…

Burning suns and hard-hearted sons

Kinsfolk  who might be both feckless and faithless

Hatred lurks in unstable disguise

Mankind fated to die

Like Leaves, they fall

Crumbled out under generations

Construct mazes of nations,

Dying and screaming

Crumbling and vanishing into the dust,

like dry leaves….

Born from dust and into dust

Ending as they began

4 COMMENTS

  1. A true but dismal picture, not exhaustive yet…..isn’t there scope for a ray of hope,though?

  2. I like the feel of the poem .. however… I am not a big fan of sorrowful endings and poets or writers loosing hope. That cannot be the end and that is never the end. You still have ink in you pen and strength in your hand you control the destiny

    So remember –    trees still have leaves on them, one falls the other rises – and so all is not lost till it is lost and till then let there be hope. Words are powerful my friend so let them rise and create what others cannot dream of – 
    A beautiful world.

  3. Is death so important? For me my life and how I live are more important. 

    Morning coffee sitting in my Balcony with cool breeze and a news paper in hand is stimulating to me.

    My baby’s naughtiness is too sweet to me..

    I cherish living more than waiting for the death that will anyway come.

    But, nice writing.

  4. Misery, leaves withering and falling down to rot on earth, old age and disease, pain that ignorance brings …..are all part an parcel of life. All this compels us to learn, become more alert, alive and wise. Death and misery are only one side of the coin. There is much beauty around, moments of peace, calm and fulfillment are there waiting for just a shift in our attitude to life ! Death is not a tragedy, it is not even against life, but part of it. Life is eternal so is our journey in life. Death is not the opposite of life, life has no opposite. Birth is the opposite of death !

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