GloMag GloMagMay2019 - Page 264

In the year of drought, Parched land is divided into Many hearts; there is not a single Tree to give solace To the bruised soul; emptiness on The horizon is all pervading; No birds are flying, their songs are dying; Only a man is standing tall Amidst the ruinous expanse of universe around; Drops of water or nectar in the bottle Conjures up images of the lush green past, 264