Like a torch of fire burning hot,
It sends its' unrelenting rays
Upon the crackled dried up earth.
The crops all cry out
for they thirst
And bow their heads as if in prayer
For just one cloud to release its' tears.
The rivers lie silent
without flow,
No splash against the rocks is heard;
Just the crackling of the clay.
Each flower stands
with bowed down head
While leaves enclose as if to hold
The precious drops of morning dew.
Fires angry run amuck
As if revenge was what they sought
For the one who raised their ire.
What cries of mercy
must ring out
Before Mother Nature sheds her tears,
Giving drink to an earth that thirsts.
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