Horror

When a fire broken out,
It never cares for price,
Ash has left behind,
Prestigious things when cool down.

When water became flood,
No huts and concreted towers,
The dignity and respect for family,
Banished with dirt and dry leaves.

When clouds have thunders,
And lightening in darkness,
A scoundrel was hiding for safety,
When worry was to secure things.

Why are these Natural disasters? 
Hurricane and earthquake,
Hits a person again and again,
But a corrupted soul never admits.

Why is life so hard to live?
If nature, things and a human,
If everyone is producing horror,
What is a meaning to prefer things?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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