WHEN JASMINE WITHERS

Even though the moon shines on your face

And the stars decorate your soul,

Why my dear, so sad, where is your grace?

What is wrong, and what is so foul?                                                    

 This warm sun shines for only you

And the breeze tries its best to make you dance

All nature is ecstatic, but for you

What happened my dear, what had its chance?

This time is for you to bloom, fresh and new

But you are withered before your time

Wake up and feel the presence of the dew

You are a Jasmine, heavenly and sublime.

“This beauty is fake, this pleasure is short,”

Replied the Jasmine, dejected and sad,

“All real grace is sold for and lost,

This world I die in is selfish and mad

You are a girl, you only want me

Like all girls who fake beauty and grace.

I still have my beauty but you don’t see

Coz you never really knew beauty and grace.

You humans are hard and have ill grace

You hide them with smiles and colors

You kill animals to mask your face

And you pretend to care for flowers.

In days of my ancestors, spring was long.

It was green and cool and blooming.

Now spring is just a day in the year long,

And I don’t care for that short-lived feeling.

I don’t care for the moon, that will die.

There will be no more moonlit nights.

There will be no more earth, that too will die.

And no more green places and flowery sights.

That day is near, you ignorant lass,

So stop fretting for my lost milky show.

Go and try preserving your human class

And try to make the destruction slow.”