Trees are rare
The sun is so flare
Riverbed with hard mud
Such a season of dud
This is  the happy surreal  city
Filled with merciless pity
Crowd of rattling machines
Air filled with smoke and dust
This iron-man is covered with rust
What have been conquered?
And what the loss we sustain
Shining nights with dark days
This culture of lesboes  and gays
We are cheated by our own knowledge
With grand theories and spoiled college
Man is hollow  and culture is dead
This is the civilization of garbage
Inventions of use and throw
What do we have to grow?
This is a nasty piece of work
Cost of all things is perking up
Nice follies and brutal gifts
Vanishing shores and rifts
Where is life, where is nature?
All the values bind in fetters.
Anil Kumar Sharma
12/06/2016