By Subham Acharya
To the god that created us, gave us life,
Watched over humankind's unity,
As it grew up from nature's cradle,
Did waddle along the way to modernity,
Conquering filth, beasts and all that stood as mortality,
Conquering over the oceans and seeming divinity,
To the god, man is a gift most precious.
To the god that we created, gave life,
As it watched over humankind's enmity,
As it grew up from nature's boundaries,
Did march on a way to animosity,
With its religions and castes and imaginary deities,
Slaughtering others for their sake of
own supremacy,
Subjugation of others in the name of "divinity",
To the god then, man is a being most
heinous.
To the God that created us,
As it did to creatures dead and gone
before us,
As but a slave to the clutches of nature,
That ruled over the fates of millions who seemed divine and immortal,
Fell one day into utter oblivion,
extinctions,
With revelations of millennia do we
ignore, lessons we let pass,
Forgetting the continents that drift apart,
the comet that did crash,
Forgetting our responsibility in this world,
turning to a world of smoke and ash,
To the god then,
man is but a worthless cog in the wheel of life.
By Subham Acharya
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