Lost God Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

Do not rattle yourself, o tree,
Your dear leaves,
Will be trampled by hot wheels.
Ask the larking bird,
Resting in her cozy next,
Hiding in your branches,
Do not chirp,
Mercenaries will wake up,
To blast the innocents.
O river ask your waves,
Do not be so happy and kind hearted,
That the jealous world may curse you.
If you want to live,
Always keep in mind,
There are killers,
Who may kill you for their sport,
In search of their lost God.



FROM:
DR. YOGESH SHARMA