Poem by Vidya Chandran
Lush green grass rolling plains sparkling rivers meandering close No wonder this God's creation as it was Man's accursed hand a cruel blow did deal to render asunder the fabric His power had wrought Today parched denuded lands stand forlorn Silent reminders of man's haste to make better todays for himself Sparing no thought for the rest that live or the tomorrows yet to come
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