The braided stories entangled,

into the refractions of the million myriads,

sniffing through the earthly farms,

the fragrance of bliss and the scents of divine.

Blending into its hymns,

we live to this glorious beauty,

tuning into its soaring chimes,

shall it endow us with supremacy.

The carving of the Mother Earth,

splashes and clashes of the swirls,

weaving the mud, seeds and paths,

through brooks’ and streams’ whirls.

Marching to the peaceful zones,

pipelining into the darkness fuming,

in the shackles of misery of one’s own,

in this mighty world that is freezing.

And there I stand and bleed,

there is now the sadness within,

discerning the upsurge in human greed,

raising the flames of anguish in veins.

The cautions are multiple and thrown,

and the audacity to defend the means and ends

with no heed to them sealed and shown,

let those streams not be just dreams.