Concrete city
Spreads in greed
Covering land and space
With columns, slabs and beams
Vicious and cold
With no remorse
Singular in purpose
Yet eerily pristine
Crawling and creeping
Gobbling up
In its path
All that’s seen
Turning grey
In its march
Every last breath
of the dying green
In its path
stands tall
The noble hill
With a valiant call
It carries
on its shoulder
The fearful trees
and the very life
that depends on it all
It promises them
They will flourish
Till the winds are true
The birds sing
The flowers merrily bloom
But the nibble on its toes
Tells of the creeping foe
The eventual fate
Casts the dark shadow
No longer hiding impending gloom
It knows it would lose
Eventually to be razed
Pulverised
to become
What it now fights
Glued in cement
As stones and shingles it would remain
Creeping on land
Living yet dead
Fallen from the noble height
But when it falls
Stabbed by iron beasts
It would see the leaves smile
For it lived it’s last breath
Standing tall for what is right
My Tales Within 