The following is based on the events that took
place in Uttarakhand, after the disastrous cloud burst that took the lives of
countless pilgrims, villagers and rescuers..
The black clouds of death that struck with bad fate,
Marks the beginning of Lucifer's merciless estate.
For the passel of people dying, the food is found nowhere,
The water running over the cold corpses is stained red everywhere.
In the cold, icily numb winds of the Himalayan ranges,
A little frost bitten girl descends the slopes steep and estranged.
To those countless pilgrims who could never see the new day,
The light faded from their eyes, forever ending their way.
A lonely father weeps for his loss that he cannot measure,
His lovely daughter being his life's sole treasure.
In the debris, the children are still buried deep and cold,
The gorge reverberates with the pain of souls, evanesced and sold.
Near the distant horizon, the black clouds finally settle down,
Marking the events of the act of God, that ended life in a town.
The hair raising cries of anguish and melancholic despair,
Shall forever echo in the destroyed valley, where deaths are beyond repair..
Shall forever echo in the destroyed valley, where deaths are beyond repair..
You write mighty fine poems!! :D
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot Roohani! :)
Deletethis was a bag of emotions.. very fine writing :D
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot for the read, and the comment! :D
DeleteWonderfully crafted!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Raihaan! :)
Delete