Poetry that reflects our future after our emotional detachment with our Mother Earth. It’s an attempt to fathom the depth of the situation when we would be left with nothing but regret and suffering.
Swinging on Mother Earth’s cradle,
She asked me,
“What’s your urge, little girl, what do you foresee?”
To that, I’d say,
“I’ve split my face into two halves.
One, beaming with the brightness and comfort
of your lap.
Other, screaming on being asphyxiated.
The agony of wanting to save you,
but losing one of you, every single day,
is perforating my soul.
Each of your deaths is snatching away
my oxygen, my dopamine, my freedom.
I’ve struggled to find this last white sheet,
inside our last wooden box.
All made from you, so I’m writing to you.
You’re the last one and your cradle,
the last heavenly object,
in the wild spreading evil inferno.
This poem is contributed by Ms. Sampurna Sahoo to my Website, a 3rd Year Mechanical Engineering Student at VSSUT, Burla.