This Is The Deadland, The Wasteland, The Barrenland Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

This is the deadland,
Deadland
Where the dead lie in
Resting

The wasteland,
Wasteland
Of barren fields and fallows
Lying untilled

The barrenland,
Barrenland
Sterile and infertile
Ruffled by heat and dust

Reflective of the post-war
Conditions,
Deadly wars and their aftermath
And man reeling under

Pain and strife,
Struggle for existence
And human suffering,
Misery untold

Rain, rain, all praying for rain,
Rains, rains
To quench thirst,
Vegetation

Humans turned as skeletons
In submission
Praying, praying to the Divine,
Asking for redemption

Redemption, redemption
From all,
All the sins committed,
Committed and done

Seeking, seeking refuge in,
Asking, asking to hammer,
Hammer it all,
To purge out and purify

And when the prayer was granted,
Heard it the divine Dispensation,
The black clouds gathered it
On the horizon to burst

And burst it upon hanging down,
Crashing with thunder showers,
Bringing in hope and joy
To the desperate and dejected souls

As prisoners of war, slaves conquered,
Down with despair and oppression,
Standing in unison with
And praying, praying for Divine Compassion

With the prayer, the grant of it,
Rumbled it the clouds, collided
And burst upon with heavy showers
Blessing the dead land with
Om shantih shantih shantih.