'Pretty' Polluted Poem by Ila Manish

The blue of water mars
The brown of mud,
Sequinned with flakes of sewage froth.
The banks rise golden
In the sun's warm embrace,
Clear and 'untainted' by Nature's touch.
Shining wrappers adorn her neck,
Diamonds in the sun-soaked morning.

Far-off fields glitter green -
Encroaching upon
the brown of withered land.
The world lies scattered with
plastics - the new flowers of the Earth -
Perfumed by their toxic fumes.

Sun-soaked relics of the past, the trees
Stand tall, shimmering
Beneath their silver veil of dust.
Their groom, the wind, arrives,
Cologned with the 'scent' of smoke.
An axe announces their marriage,
The dry clouds mourn their death.

The world takes shelter under
A facade of innocence
As Nature, our acts, condemn with heat.
Imminent death, offers no threat
To the immortality of pollution.