A Plea from the Jungle

 

A Plea from the Jungle


This is the tale of that forest wide,
Where once those lions ruled with pride,
They built a heaven, pure and free,
That lived in every heart you’d see.

 

Humans came and looted it all,
That heavenly sight began to fall,
They snatched away what once was theirs,
Then turned away, with empty cares.

 

These free-winged birds we’ve caged inside,
In iron prisons where dreams have died,
What once was theirs, we took away,
Made them slaves, in chains they stay.

 

I stand here at this turning place,
And watch them all in silent space,
They come to meet their own once more,
Yet play together like before.

 

Each night the peacocks cry in pain,
No restful sleep for them remains,
We killed the dark with blinding light,
And keep them waking through the night.

 

When homes of theirs were torn apart,
We struck their souls, we broke their heart,
These free-born birds now wonder why,
What fault was theirs beneath this sky.

 

O God, in making man so high,
You set this heaven all on fire,
No matter what we give them now,
Their hunger never fades somehow.

 

They drink our blood, yet proudly claim,
They are the greatest, crowned in fame,
Those who lived in forests free,
Are called the beasts by humanity.

 

They worship stones, all side by side,
Yet feel no pain for forests that died,
What kind of world have they made here,
Where even selves no longer feel near.

 

O wandering soul, just pause and see,
The one who created you and me,
Some was yours and some was mine,
Yet this truth you failed to define.

 

This earth now bears a heavy weight,
We all must carry, before too late,
You destroyed my forest, piece by piece,
Now tell me where shall I find peace?

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