Neon lights have sucked out
The colour from petals, making them wither, wrinkled with tears.
Leaves of gold are signed with suffering,
Fugitive footsteps of wild animals
Are lost in the hounding echoes
Of bulldozers with curving claws.
The watery sun dapples the river in patches of pain
Fragments of broken rainbows float on the surface,
The reminders of nature’s death;
The air pulsates with age-old aches,
Gaunt is the river that once frolicked through fields.
The sky cracks at the corners,
Darkening with congealed cobwebs of dreamless nights,
Dimming the stars’ lights until they dangle limply among lurking shadows.
When will the sun-sodden life be back?
When will we stop crushing nature’s soul into powders of profit?
They are saying something,
The trees, mountains, rivers, birds, animals-
I don’t know,
I can’t make out
Is it a pleading or is it a warning?
They sound like a massive wave,
Balanced delicately on the serrated edge of a dark cliff
Losing its patience.