Which Wink Knows Not Poem by Abdul Wahab

The wink of the lamp,
Burns with great fun and frolic
In crimson red flame
And sucks up the oil from the bottom
With much amusement and enthusiasm
But he does not know
Those drops of oil were once
A mass of carbons which
Turned into from the pieces of bones
Murdered and buried
Under hot sand thousands of years ago
For the factories, for the wheels of the roads
And for the lights to decorate their homes
All of these I know
Because some of mine
For the same cause in the same way
Had been taken away
For the secure supply of fuels
For the coming hundreds of years