Photo by Yogendra Singh on Pexels.com

On the banks of Vaitarni, we stand
Our fate was done, we thought
Our fate is due, we now hear
Across the silent flow of the gory Yamuna
There’s a rough storm brewing
Do we not brace for a mighty cost?
A price we must pay, a debt we must clear
Before our ecology evaporates in the smoke
Arising from the chimneys of growth!

Categories: Poetry

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