The fireflies gathered every night,
to decorate the trees very bright,
thousands of them at the great height,
where my heart had risen in mad delight,
The chirping little birds in my nerves,
could be seen flying singing as slaves,
picked up the twigs and golden hays,
woven the nest to breed the lives,
before and after every rain fall,
the croaking of frogs never failed,
though jungle lizards are too big,
the calling of them are still fresh,
monkeys and their suckling babies,
Monitor lizards walked as the dogs,
yellow, green parrots and the brown eagles,
marker sized centipede and pencil sized millipede,
where have they gone, leaving me alone,
hearing the noise of piling case and cranes,
making me to be mad and in need of peace,
the breeze from the jungle gone with no trace,
in the place of fire flies there will be pulps,
decorate the thirty two levels of greediness,
the babies will be born here in the enclosure,
the windows will be shut for ever.
In the place of fire flies there will be pulps, decorate the thirty two levels of greediness, the babies will be born here in enclosures while common man is only in total despair. A meaningful and thought provoking poem. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The beauty of nature destroyed by townships. So common and the process seems to be unstoppable Love the message in the poem