International Press Reporter Harsha Sista writes about the futility of the Syrian War from the perspective of Mother Nature.
In olden times when grass was green and flowers were in bloom,
People lived in harmony without a cloud of gloom.
Thick and stale and reeking, with the sickening stench of blood,
It hung upon the land and brought about a flood.
A flood of sorrow, tears and pain that spared not a single soul,
As brothers fought each other over the results of a poll.
The government rained down hellfire on the ones who did rebel,
Not caring that they were killing innocent civilians as well.
The rebels, on the other hand, looked to have a righteous cause,
But in their endeavour to liberate the country, they overlooked many a clause.
They did nothing to protect the rights of the innocent who was not involved,
As a result, the crisis at hand escalated violently and could not be solved.
Millions fled their homeland as the brutal war prolonged,
Because none of the parties involved could give justice to the wronged.
This mass exodus was a matter of huge concern to the rest of the globe,
Because they knew that they could do nothing but prod and probe.
As external powers entered the fray, hoping to bring the conflict to an end,
The opposing sides could not reach an agreement which both could commend.
The strife continued with renewed vigour and the land was laid to waste,
With all notions of humanity and the value of life from the minds of the people erased.
Even today, the war continues, and nobody knows when it will stop,
As armies fight seemingly for justice, while ignoring everything in the backdrop.
Whatever the result of the war, it is humanity that ultimately loses,
And weeping gently about the entire debacle, Mother Nature silently muses.