A curse called Man

a poem by Sathyanarain M

The golden brown cub
Was born.
A far off place from the suburbs;
It grew peacefully and
Along with its kith and kin
He grew to be a majestic one;
His Majesty
He ruled the forest, day and night
Animals trembled in fright;
At his sight
His mane, the golden one, his pride
As he walked along leaving the others
Jaws open and wide.
Then came the day
The King, His Majesty succumbed
To a hunter’s mark, as a cheap game
The one who ruled the woods,
The one that controlled the others,
Is now controlled by man.
Man- the creation of the good Lord
Alas! now destroys the creations of God.