By JH Sayyar
The earth bloomed beneath our tender tread,
Its rivers sang, its forests whispered peace;
But hunger grew where gentler hopes had fled,
And craving’s clutch refused to ever cease.
Man carved mountains, drained the ocean's grace,
He claimed the stars to hoard what he could steal;
No mirror shames the shadow on his poor face,
For greed has numbed the soul he used to feel.
Gold buys sleep, dreams are filled with dread,
No vault can hold the storm his heart has sown;
Though banqueted, his poor spirit still is fed
On greed ash and thirst—forever more alone
What wealth can weigh the cost of nature-lost?
Ah! When man forgets what mercy truly cost?
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