A Tale Of Destruction Poem by mohit prabhakar

lo and behold! !
this field of dream
hath the soil of red
once hadst some green
a tale that it hadst seen
of fallen heroes and ground
all the woe rest didst escape
o hither i didst seek and found
the work of a baronial being
that turned the flora so brown
and the place that once made I keen
the redness of the golden sand
dejects and pulls i down

of its harrowing tales
of apathy and disgrace
plundered and ravaged it
leaving all its dismal trace
for all wast left to dust
with no such idyllic sound
incinerated and let to rot
for generations hence to hound

all of of its piteous glean
the dirt, the air, that surround
no such harm which didst mean
satan's wrath all didst found

for the air itself reek of blood
with silence all around
echoes in this vale, a deathly thud
aided by the serene mound

this wondrous beguiling scene
wherenin once i drowned
in the course lost all its sheen
for which once it wast crowned

as i stand hither and gulp
to dwell among, all frowned
in this vale of desolation
my heart doth perpetually pound

for now all is gone
for now none canst mend
all that left wast thrown
as i behold its end, THE END