Her form is nothing but death
At every second snatches the breath.
For her millions lose their key to live
Human race thinking how to survive.
But Nature is in doubt
Whether to shout,
Or whether to cry loud
Seeing the dumbing at Blount.
But Earth felt to be fed by care,
At the clean sky children can stare.
Shimmering bright smiles the river
Free from pollution an irritating fever.
Whether to blame,
The Fate played game,
Gaea wonders on Corona
The Manchurian morona.
Priyankar is currently pursuing M.A in English Literature and Language from the University of Calcutta. Poetry is his hobby.
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