Mother, my mountains have a silent grief to share with you!: A poem 

I see the city lick-gnaw at my mountains 

with their rabid tongues and teeth 

And their factory chimneys blacken-soot 

my skies. So that the air falls like rain-dust 

on my slopes and tears at my vegetation! 

So, I live like a controlled victim grappling 

with nylon cords that bind me in straitjacket; 

for mother, everything I love has been misappropriated 

Not out of my volition but out of the treachery 

of those who wish to sabotage or snare me. So, I lie, 

Mother, lie down to die in this checkmate of me.  

That I will not demolish these bastions of evil, with my 

intrepidity; to the risk of destruction of the ones I love! 

And I lie down to die, Mother, because 

my suffering has always been due to the crimes of others. 

Am I to bear this endless suffering for others, 

when even the ones I love flourish the traitorship against me! 

Mother, how should I shout from the rooftops 

for this humongous injustice done to me? Or should I still the earth off life, 

not caring for the consequences to anyone near and dear as well! 

Or should I seek redemption by just casually leaving, 

for the suffering imposed on me is just too unbearable!!!!