Wounds, countless in number,
from the acquaintances we bear,
from inside and outside, injure
our physique and psyche, sure.
Cause, harms and hard hurts,
to us, in life, our fellow trekkers,
in resolute and astute ways,
through their deeds and words.
Rape, slaughter, massacre,
blames, sarcasm,satire,
beating, cheating, and shooting
are the arts, they pick for hurting.
Having claims with zero justice,
for a piece of land, little in size,
marring people’s freedom, raid
a nation, the foes of nature rude.
Milks the man, fully mother Earth
and her blood, like a leech he sucks.
Carves, he cruelly an ugly portrait;
lesions on her gorgeous visage.
Forget not we have our Nature
to amuse the plural of the creature,
with the lullaby-buzzing breeze,
and sweet sonnet crooning robins.
Gleaming grins to us all, pass
twisting rivers and singing streams,
grassy hills and yielding fields
and so, certainly are we blessed.
Short-lived is life; why should we
in filthy traits, remain green?
Envies, scandals, spites, squabbles
nibble life’s peace with law nil.
Keep an aesthetic sense of things,
that in our need, lead us to think,
as how to release our very minds,
from ideas providing gashes and tears.
