Drying Dead Poem by Srivishnu Rentala

Water, water everywhere,
Not a drop to drink.
Water, water; now nowhere,
as reservoirs continue to shrink.

Quenching our thirst: now a luxury
Even though we're right next to the sea.
Sans food, you can bear a fortnight.
But minus water, not quite.

Such is the severity of our miseries,
Water is now imported in trains.
But even those water-laden bogies
can't fill the chasms that cry for rains.

While fancy space rovers
scout for water in celestial soils;
we dig deep and forage all over
for water that can release this turmoil.

Whilst the privileged splash through
water Jacuzzis in a hotel;
Millions are standing in a queue
to get just a handful, from a well.

Where once we danced to tunes of thunder,
we sit dejected; reminiscing our blunders.
As we took for granted, those drops of life
We now embrace eternal environmental strife.

Brace yourself and spare a thought:
As we plunge into a deleterious drought.
Why fear committing sins and be noble;
when the world is already a living hell?