The sun drenched seas of mighty oceans
Once lapping gently now tearing homes
and scores of habitation in their way
They match the winds that move with fierceness
Destroying all that dares to come their way

Where is the gentleness of the wind
Or the softness of the waves at play
It is a mighty destruction
Man-made you can say

Tons of rubbish, rubble, debris
Strewn across miles far to sight
Silent tears and jagged cries are heard
From plunderers of nature's true parks

The guilt of corruption, of bleeding forests
of toying with the ocean's peace
Are now in question

Where were the questions when the philandering began
Now it is the man on the street who stands in vain
In the end, the never-ending guilt of serving
the rich remains..


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