NATURE Poem: The Wasteland, by Tridip Patir

I send this message out
To a herd of sheep
To a generation of men, I ask
Are you happy with how it’s turned out to be?

Can we not find a place of respite?
Are we stuck in this wasteland for eternity?
Forgive me for being so blunt….or don’t
Weren’t you the ones sent for our reprieve?

What went wrong, you followed a fool
You followed him to the gates of hell.
Not a moment of thought, not a minute of reason
You followed him to the halls of death.

Now tell me how are we to live like this
With not a morsel to fill our hungry bellies
Rain may wash away your committed sins
But who washes away your childrens’ scars?

Now what have you to say for yourselves?
You generation of fools?
What have you to show for yourselves?
You herd of paupers?

You warred against your own brothers
Slayed and bathed in your own blood
You drifted from the ideals of your ship
Under false notion of motherly love

Now look at this wasteland
None resides where you once slept
Your children, they are of the last
We are….of the last.

You killed your own bountiful mother
And you warred against your own brothers
You slayed your own blood
Under false notion of motherly love

What went wrong, you followed a fool
You followed him to the gates of hell
Not a moment of thought, not a minute of reason
You followed him to the halls of death.

Now what have you to say for yourselves
You generation of fools?
What have you to show for yourselves
You herd of paupers?

What have you to show for yourselves
You generation of fools?