Far From The Madding Crowd Poem by C. P. Sharma

The maddening world

Muddled up in vice

Stuck up in wealth

Takes more than due slice


Robbing Mother Earth

Of its treasures finite

Ignoring future generations

Self-annihilation slight


Neither pure air to breath

Nor pure water to drink

No healthy food to eat

Of all junk foods we think


Hearts are now maligned

New vultures on living prey

Satan has possessed our spirit

We are on destruction's way


Before the Earth is barren

A mild voice within I hear

Make tree-house by river side

Tune to birds' melodies clear


In its dense green foliage

The peace of mind flows

Nearby fresh fruit groove

Pure and gentle breeze blows