Friday, August 22

Human Might

The wind blowing at my face,
I want to see, yet I can't;

Beautiful flowers, colourful birds,
Beauty of the woods, lush green trees.
Yellow sun, clear blue sky,
Bardwisikhla marching in March.

Calmness of the breeze,
Sound of pouring rain;
An old house beside the tree,
Butterflies in the garden.

The wind blowing at my face,
And I don't want, yet see;

Concrete jungle, dark clouds,
Smog on the roads, dust in the trees;
Murder in the skies,
Open dustbin and flies.

Clear day, rainy night,
Hunger and food fight;
Jam-packed roads, beggars on the street,
Use and abuse of Human Might!


  1. Hi Jeshal,the opposites u hve given in ur poem is awesome,dat comparison of greenery n a concrete city...too gud..whatever we do, we shd do with all our might... meanwhile we shd see to dat our might is not used to destroy our mother nature..its like destroying ourselves ultimately! After longtime I am reading ur poem (Ur poem 'The Bonfire' had touched my heart and now I am feeling happy I read this poem.)Plz don't stop writing. I wish I can see a lot more soon.

  2. Hey Shilz.. thanks for your support. The problem is my creativity doesn't flow always.. Its bit spontaneous. :D

  3. @ jeshal

    Good one reflects your concern.Gets us pondering....When i look out the window similar feelings come to the time we realize what we are doing it may be too late..we would've killed none but ourselves..


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