Act before music runs out of all the wetlands
No more
music in the pond
Once upon a time around a pristine pond,
surrounded a band of frogs in a friendly bond.
They embellished the pond like colourful rubies on a royal
throne,
as they melodiously sang in a pleasantly rich baritone.
As if jealous of their joy and success, men defiled their
habitat indifferently.
Life at the pond was no longer peaceful and easy and happy.
Frogs, fish and others began to feel very sick and queasy.
Hopeless, hapless and homeless, life had changed drastically.
Musical concerts were no longer heard,
colourful rubies were nowhere to be seen.
Prosaic sounds from sporadic chirping of a bird
were the only ones to break the prolonged silence.
to murder as many terrestrial and aquatic lives as they could
but could not poison the air to a level,
that could harm the innocent flier.
The bird finally flew to a place much safer,
leaving the parched pond lifeless than ever.
Come rains and the pond fills up to its brim,
Alas, there is no colour, no melody and the air remains grim.
There is no bird chirping on a branch nearby,
as the wind narrates to the pond a sad lullaby.
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