The earth cries to the ephemeral being

Who prances as if an eternal thing!

“ Quo Vadis, don’t you know the end of this?

Halt, before it’s late and all goes amiss”.

Heed the cries of torment that rend the air.

Behold the hollow eyed, who’s your brother.

Feel the tremor that sets your feet tremble.

And perceive, unless you turn, you’ll tumble.

The woodlands are dying. So are the brooks.

The buzzing bees and the warbling sky larks

The calm of a pool  and a tranquil lake

Could all be yesterday, unless you wake.

The love for sweet nature you’ve forsaken

The codes of your forefathers you reckon

Absurd and you have tarnished glitter

From little eyes to fill them with bitter.

“it is not so late” says the Mother Earth

The light’s still there within. There is no dearth.

Blaze it up before it blurs and fades out.

Make the Maker rejoice and let bliss spout.