DEATH OF THE LAND.

I heard the wind howling when living mortals are scarce to find by.  Sent forth by the raging sea it spurred up all things inanimate in its path. As leaves, metal sheets danced hand in hand, even the wisps of the dead were crying out from their tombs. They all danced—the dead and the undead. The wind with its deathly moan was calling them out for their Salvation. The sea had been a silent spectator to the death of the land, but no more. A land so dead, infested by the worms of hypocrisy and deceit of 7 billion people ravaging and tearing apart numb Nature. The wind was the sea’s carrier to this barren land. Even the mute wind was wailing the death of the land as it began to salvage the remaining vestiges of Nature.

 I too wanted to fly along with the undead and moan the death of the land. But scarcely had I opened the window, the furious wind shut my eyes tight.

 Ah! How could I join them, when I too was a part of the sinning 7 billion? I had played my part in the conspiracy of looting the Nature. Realizing thus, I came back…waiting for the day when I too, would be able to seek redemption for my sins against Nature. Someday I too would howl and wail the death of the land. Until then, I remain an inmate in the jailhouse of 7 billion.

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