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The Indigenius' Den by Ankit Kumar is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 India License.
Based on a work at www.theindigeniusden.blogspot.com.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Torn


For months, they had withstood Winter,
The icy chill split their spine.
Oh just a few more gloomy days—
There, there comes the sunshine.

Withered branches and strewn leaves—
Greenness to Yellowness—
From dawn to dusk, coldness ruled,
Emptiness and hollowness.

A few lucky ones were spared the plight,
Leaving the others in grief profound—
Green to brown they went and fell,
They fell to the frozen ground.

The martyrs withered away,
With the dust they mingled.
A few were carried on the winds,
With them the bells jingled.

Spring brought light showers,
Pleasant Sun and happiness abound.
The Greenness was restored,
Hearty cheers all around.

The leaves rejoiced and played,
Never had they witnessed this.
Except the grannies and the granddads,
Who sung tales of eternal bliss.

Suppleness and wit flowed supreme,
Many songs written, many re-sung,
But as is customary with Happiness,
It soon went away to worlds far flung.

Summer brought the Sun out in glory.
The silly leaves welcomed Him without scorn.
Thus started the reign of the much powerful one,
Horrid, thirsty, barren and forlorn…

Dry and rancid, arid and broken,
The grounds were beaten black and brown,
The leaves under the blistering sun,
Hoped for water in which to drown.

The once pleasantness of the welcomed sun
Had turned sour and scorching.
Hardened and brittle, in want of moistness,
The leaves went about searching.

Not the bark, black now it was,
The branches sent similar news.
From the south came word too:
There was no water near the roots.

The dried leaves hoped and prayed,
For bountiful showers, like Spring had played,
The mighty gods sent the clouds:
Menacing, dark and grayed.

From the heavens drizzled the lustrous rains,
Like elixir, they reined in life.
Enjoying the touch of a gentle nature,
No longer were the leaves in strife.

Bathed in cold water,
The thirst at last was quenched.
The rains then came down heavier than ever,
And the ground below got entrenched.

The gentle drops became heavier still,
Forcing the leaves to take cover.
The winds blew in, harder and faster,
The leaves now cowered in terror.

The mighty winds and rains surged further,
To diabolical proportions they grew, they grew.
The leaves wept out, holding tightly
As their mother now fell through.

The havoc subsided leaving behind an uneasy peace.
Attached to the mother, the leaves lay tranquil;
The eyes were closed, their bodies had wilted,
But some had teardrops glistening still…

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