By Madduri Hemant
Hey, the river, why you cry,
Left abandoned, still you try.
Down the mountains, witches stop,
They try to touch, but you deny.
Hey, the river, why aren't you so fresh?
All the dirt pains your breast.
You're too quick, but they're so many—
Drank everything, left if any?
Hey, the river, why don't you move?
Burned alive, no one to prove.
Though you tried, but they didn't stop,
Now you're bleeding, drop by drop.
Now the river has passed away,
Thrashed by the society, where the governments play.
And now the river could never see its face,
Praying from the clouds—"Where the world was a better place!"