Wednesday, November 21, 2007

The Last Shrub

Year-2089

The World is in war.
They burnt, they dug, they slew and they killed us all....a little later before they realised,they need us.

One Survived....

I lay hid, listening to the stream who brings me grievings of life that's left....

She tells me;

Of her fair cousins running red.
Of the stench of decay and death.
Of bodies...half burnt...half burried.
Of children, whose mothers wont see them become men.

And of MEN.....mad wild men.....seeking glory among graves....

I see the red sun....and i see my mother having the last laugh.

Alas! As last of my seeds drop...
I wish...
I wish...I could be EVERGREEN.
I wish...men had never been.

3 comments:

Kavish Sinha said...

If words were to spell magic...This one's truly conjuring...the piece makes me aware, awed, inspired and amazed!
Simply the best set of words i've been thru in a long long time!

Cheers Ranjan!
Am waiting for more!;)

Sarang Mahajan said...

Bro, your inspiration is the greatest, our all time favorite, Sir Tolkien. Is it not? And that makes the difference. You have a creative writer's brain, and reading Tolkien and the likes is nourishing it well. Just don't give up writing. No matter what your CAT results are! :D

A very good piece here, from 2089. Keep it up! :-)

Abhinav Maurya said...

Oye!!! 2089???
You are a very optimistic guy man!
Nice blog. Will keep on visitin. :-)