Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Where has the mist gone?
I sat alone on the wooden bench
Along the rows of rubber trees
Staring at the Utopian mystery
Of the forest, that covers the faraway land.
I used to travel the width and the breath
Of this wonderful forest that keeps shrinking
Briefing me the selfishness that shadows mankind
Little care not spared, even for the trees and hills.
I cried in silence, my heart is wet
Thinking the fate of my beloved forest
Who remains a mystery to me until this day
For letting man walk away, looting her precious life.
The forest mystery dragged me the first time into it
A new world built itself within me, a love strange
And on that day I knelt and prayed to the Almighty
Pray, let this one survive the vicious man,
For generations, are yet to rise to see this forest.
Alas! the wail of selfish man is much louder
With machine and willpower, man riddles the forest
A hundred years of silent witness began to crumble
A loud thud spread across the forest, leaving the rest shudders.
For another tree to grow up tall and sturdy
May take another hundred generations of man, wise mankind.
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