A Forgotten Page Poem by Ravinder Kumar Soni

Often history does not present the truth;
Take the case of a scary sound
That no one would describe as musical,
It was there lingering in the bushes,
Crudely described
It was the sound that even I had forgotten existed,
The harsh, screechy, tearing, loud blast heard
When of its own a dead tree breaks and falls;
It is the cry of the earth skinned alive.
Now the times have changed
The trees are not left to die,
Sawed through but not allowed to snap;
The earth nestles the dead tree stubs
For the termites to feed on,
For the earth, there is no pain but only sorrow and rents.
This part of life I did not find in history books.