Crazy Storm Poem by V P Mahur

Creative is man's mind
Active are his hands
He can make new kind
Out of the dry sands

The genius that in him lies
Makes him a creative super
He on the wings of success
Grasping in his hands power

But in him his overconfidence
Has changed the earth's face
By creating a disturbance
For the whole futile race

He is surrounded by his own sins
Of non-decaying accumulations
Chocking in the smoking bins
In the darkness of no solutions

Still he believes in his actions
And has nonsense of self guilt
Like crazy storm without directions
Destroys recklessly every built