Poetry(Water)

By Padma Youdol

I’m your precious water,

One of thy creators,

The quencher of my tricky master,

He, who might have denied that I’m nectar.

Do I become a matter to litter?

O people, listen to my voice,

Am I not a source that matter?

Or you may have to cost twice.

I am the offering of ripples,

While I hit the pebbles,

I have the appearance of crystal clear,

With no tears and no more fear.

You have my volume in litres,

Whether I get deteriorate in gutter,

Or monstrous river, vast ocean, subtle lake, heart relieving oasis,

It doesn’t matter unless you realize,

You are the trouble maker.

I am draining my life,

Yet you are thinking, “That’s life”,

You can fix your bad omissions,

By obeying your mind, use fingers to solutions.

You pull me out from deep inland,

By inventing many tube wells, so grand,

Wow! I won’t feed you for too long,

The reason, you expanse for, is so wrong.

You have known, I’m priceless,

But don’t treat me as useless,

Save me, either you will sigh,

Or soon I must say you will die.

By Padma Youdol