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Change of winds

 


As the gray skies deepened,

Heavens loudly burst opened,

With a vigorous clap of thunder,

Streaks of lightning making all wonder.

 

Was it the greens of monsoon?

That received the pouring boon.

Falling on the lush green floor,

But it was in fact, the season of parched moors.

 

What a deluge it was,

Beyond any reason or cause,

Reprieve from the sweltering heat,

Or kicking the farmer, already beat.

 

One side of the world, it was a day of selfies,

With piping coffees or monogrammed cups of slurpies,

The other side, it was a great bane,

Months of toiling drowned in vain.

 

Rows and columns of well-ordered crops,

So nimbly did they flop,

As water flowed sans barrier,

Rolling tears mimicking a river.

 

Who is the culprit?

Aggravating nature’s hissy fits,

For burning through coal pits,

Killing animals for fur lined kits.

 

This cruel change of winds,

Result of the burning sins,

Merciless murder of grand trees,

Fueling privileged sprees.

 

 

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