We don’t want to allow birds in our skyscrapers,
but we keep taking up their space.
We take everything from nature,
Make monsters out of it and boast about our technology,
We assure our fellows that we’d cure everything with the giants we created out of nothing,
But what will we do when that ‘ nothing ‘ no longer exists.
Coleridge said,” water water everywhere, but not a drop of water to drink,” and we are about to bring his words to fruition.
We live in crumbling castles but keep singing the songs of our glory.
We’ve developed so much that we choke on the air we’re supposed to live on.
The nature has become our reflection these days,
It’s giving back what we gave it.
It acts like a moody teenager we complain,
But never question what we did to deserve this.
We’ve stuffed it so much with crap,
It has no option but to cry out in pain.
The sky’s no longer blue but has turned into a melancholy grey.
The clear water has turned into pathetic brown.
But we keep singing the songs of our victory,
Because we still haven’t realised that the earth is shifting from under our feet.