The quake that struck our little neighbor, Nepal; was of extreme disaster with a system so unprepared, pitiful and undeveloped that they started counting the dead from 100 which unfortunately scaled up to 4000+ as I write this poem. God bless those who’re still involved in rescuing the alive and counting the dead.
Footed close to a paradise,
The silent Everest closed both eyes,
Dressed was she in nothing but ice,
Her Master’s voice was no suprise.
Something below was let loose,
Nepal – She reeled & I got news,
Cries of children sought help for use,
And Everest wished she healed that bruise.
“I’m asking, why!”, like Cretu asked.
Rains came and I asked them why,
They pretended and said goodbye,
A cotton cloud came and I asked her why,
She stayed mum to prevent a lie.
Skies rolled in as if she knew nothing,
I insisted “tell me something”,
She just stared and said nothing,
None of them told me a thing.
Rest in peace the departed souls,
God’s love will fill all souls,
The ones you left behind in tolls,
Will have our love inside their bowls.