The Land People

There is no better place than here

Our forgotten land of ire

The land of which once bled

By which the water people's tears wept

But none all the saddened

Were those earthen people

Have they forgotten the bosom of which they were born?

Or the destructon they have created?

Wilted is their first mother

For she has been forgotten

And in those silent nights

She creates a world of wonder

And in those silent nights

She creates a world we cannot reach

Our hands are of fire

For what we touch gets burnt and scarred

The leaves turn brown and bitter

The trees blackened to their roots

The water sick with our poisons

Even the fire of which we were born seems to ill

All in guilt in which we created

We forget the common sins

Yet we pray to unknown gods

And of which we do not pray

Is to the first true creator

Our first mother

The eathen people's home

And of which she weeps

Will we one day kill her?

Or will we go to the forgotten chambers

So that we can save her

To the land people 

Do not forget

What we truly owe

For once it is forgotten

So will it be our lives

Consumed by the sands of time

 

Reviews

[Swetha]

a very apt poem about the destruction of nature. '...our lives/consumed by the sands of time' i really like this line!

[C>C]

Thanks:) I appeciate it:)