Burning Forest

By Saumoneel Mandal

 saumo_neel

Never had she a child of her own

Nor did she want any

 for she lived in the green zone

She would say,

"Why must I toil

to seek my own flesh and blood

 if my love is forever forlorn

in the soil"

She caressed the trees

 till they blossomed

Like a mother would do

for her babe in bosom

And like Kipling's stories,

they would grow

While each death would sit

heavy on her brow

Till that fateful harsh winter night

When they came marching,

On their churning machines

from the concrete jungle

And they left in the morning

When the sky turned blue

And the earth turned red

Leaving her heart broken,

Crying on an ashen bed.