A purpose

Hello everyone, I recently found this poem I wrote 3 years ago for a water conservation contest.


The sky cried,

The plants died,


The mountains separated from their snow-clad bride,


A thin stream emerged, laden with guilt it asked,


Have I fulfilled my purpose?



With childish purity and tumultuous flow,


Helping the mountains thrive and grow,


Repaying the debt it did owe,


A river emerged, with its life built it asked,


Have I fulfilled my purpose?



Coming down, from when the world was at its feet,


Supporting civilizations from heat, giving wheat and concrete.


Thinking that its work was complete,


It approached the sea, and laden with silt it asked,


Have I fulfilled my purpose?



The stream was now old and one with the sea,


Corals bloomed with pearls of wisdom, while fishes swam free,


But the cycle of life had to continue and the sky had a tax to levy,


As it evaporated, covering its deathbed with a quilt it asked,


Have I fulfilled my purpose?



The tap was open!


The bucket was broken!


Could no one sympathize with her emotions?


Polluted and squandered it choked to a miserable death


Had it fulfilled its Purpose?

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