A Lament For The Forgotten Dawn Poem by Dhiman Shah

Alone I walk this world of glass and glare,
Where hearts lie trapped in wires, cold and bare;
Each soul encased within its metal keep,
Too deaf to hear the forests as they weep.

Men crown their screens as gods of every hour,
Yet pass the rose and never sense its power;
They trade the sky for mirrors in their hands,
And call it life—
though none but dust now stands.

I speak of winds that whisper ancient lore,
Of rivers singing songs we knew before;
But they, self-bound in caged illusions deep,
Mock me as one who dreams while others sleep.

"Regressive, " say they, with their hollow eyes,
Blind to the sun's slow birth across the skies;
Unknowing how the mountains keep their vow,
Or how the earth still breathes beneath the bough.

O wretched age, enthralled by lifeless light,
Hast thou forgot the thunder of the night?
The stars that burn with truths no voice can feign?
The rain that speaks in tongues of ancient pain?

And lo, I stand—
a solitary flame
Amidst a realm that even gods would shame.
I watch as nature, patient in her grief,
Waits for the day mankind shall seek relief.

For though they sneer at those who feel her grace,
She carves her fury in the human race;
And one day, when their towers start to fall,
They'll hear the forest whisper:
"I forgave you all."

Tell me, ye blind who worship steel and screen,
Did ever one of you desire this scene?
A world where hearts grow cold and minds grow numb—
Where beauty calls…
and no one dares to come?

And if this realm persists in hollow pride,
Let nature rise and sweep the rot aside;
For mercy wanes where men refuse to see
The quiet wrath of leaf and stone and sea.

When iron hearts outnumber stars above,
The world shall mourn the death of simple love;
And I—last witness to a fading birth—
Shall howl alone upon a dying earth.

Let them rejoice in screens that dull their mind—
For when the end arrives,
they'll look behind
And find no gods, no glory, no one there—
Only the world they murdered…
and my despair.