The pasteurs green, <br />a tillers bread; <br />have long become barren. <br /> <br />The mountains white, <br />a delight to eyes; <br />have been tinted crimson. <br /> <br />The waters calm, <br />a peace to the soul; <br />are now turbulent. <br /> <br />The air pure, <br />life of the valley; <br />stinks now - of Death. <br /> <br />The paradise on earth, <br />has been turned into, <br />a graveyard of bliss.<br /><br />harsh sagi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-of-death/
