The Fall
All is silent when a breeze sweeps by,
Branches are rustled; leaves begin to fly;
Among those leaves a few flowers lie,
Fluttering in the wind, mesmerizing to the eye.
Yet this is short-lived; beautiful moments always are.
Nature’s grandeur; Fallen on the cruel black tar.
There the flowers lie, their beauty now marred;
Waiting to die; their initial home, so far.
Along comes Man, on the path he made;
He did not appreciate the end of nature’s grand parade.
Unfeelingly he walked, and unfeeling he stayed;
Trampling on nature, rotting away.
Branches are rustled; leaves begin to fly;
Among those leaves a few flowers lie,
Fluttering in the wind, mesmerizing to the eye.
Yet this is short-lived; beautiful moments always are.
Nature’s grandeur; Fallen on the cruel black tar.
There the flowers lie, their beauty now marred;
Waiting to die; their initial home, so far.
Along comes Man, on the path he made;
He did not appreciate the end of nature’s grand parade.
Unfeelingly he walked, and unfeeling he stayed;
Trampling on nature, rotting away.
The inspiration for this poem came as I browsed through the many photographs I had taken during our school trip to the botanic gardens. The sight of the flowers lying on the road gave me a sense of neglect. This reminded me greatly of the poems about nature we had studied in our first term, such as ‘The World Is Too Much With Us’ by William Wordsworth, which was about how Man today is becoming more detached and oblivious to the splendor of nature, even if it were just a short moment of beauty as the flowers and leaves drift to the ground in the wind. Also, as the flowers are lying on the road, it seems as if they are dying upon a creation of Man. The theme of the increasingly estranged relationship between Man and Nature is, essentially, what my poem is about.
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