Aftab Alam (15 th April 1967 / PRASTOLI, DORANDA, RANCHI, JHARKHAND, INDIA)
Glory to be the Lord
How long should I weep alone and to whom should I tell my pain?
What we call peace! Whither it gone? My grief you are in loss or gain
‘Glory to be the Lord’ up to my last breath, among all we are the best
Among the creatures, we the supreme, this is a truth, not my behest.
Everything is for us: the moon, the sun and the stars and the unseen
This holy earth is a human spoilt; it should not be ruined as it has been
A supine attitude unto the gift that Lord gave, uncared, pounced into mud
Still the door is not closed for those who are alive, none heard the sound thud.
Come, come here as I stood with all the colors of nature
Why we deny the divinity though through nature, we nurture
Comments about this poem (Glory to be the Lord by Aftab Alam )
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