Last War for Civilization

Sarkhej Roja | By Piyush Tank

I write this to warn you. I write this to plead you. 

I write to you what I see.

 

I see…

Her face faintly lined with dry tears,

Playing the memory of her baby

At her breast.

She had brought him into this world,

Amidst bloodshed and bombing

Outside the broken shelter.

 

I see… 

Him growing up in this grimy rust,

A crumbing urban decay of life

To be rebuilt from scratch.

The moral compass of humanity shed,

Taken over by a lust for immortality

At the cost of a mutated body.

 

I see… 

The perseverence of the expectant mothers,

Sole cradles preserving and continuing

The pure form of life.

A grim and desperate crusade to safety,

Sheer will and determination leading

The last war for civilization.

 

I see… 

A mountain made of sacrifices and grit,

The rape of our Mother Earth that

Has been fiercely avenged.

The smoking lands now have tiny footfalls,

Playing with the brave new foliage

Sowing the hope of future.

 

I plead you to hold on to humanity. To warn you of the seduction of greed.

Your Future Self

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I cheated here. The mutation, the greed and pregnant women being the last carriers of pure humanity was a dream I had a few weeks back (Yes, my dreams are mostly thriller/sci-fi). Grace at dVerse handed me the perfect prompt where we are writing how weird the future can be.

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