Skip to main content

Deforestation and Afforestation

 A thick smog hung in heavy air, as it enshrouded the city in hazy gloom. Sunlight struggled to break through, casting eerie shadows that danced across the grimy, pollution-stained streets. The city had turned into a massive car park, its streets congested with vehicles. A cacophony of horns assaulted the senses. Along the sidewalks, pedestrians hurried, their faces masked against the thick choking air. This city, once so proud, was now a scene of obliteration, of pollution and devastation, of ruin bought upon it by its own progress.

This insidious enemy, this serpent of pollution, which is now slowly attacking the Race of Man – an enemy born of humanity’s own progress and advancements – has reached its peak and will not allow humankind to live in peace. 

The serpent of Deforestation slithers across the lands, its venomous fangs sinking deep, draining the green blood of life from the Earth. The forests wither and fall. But appears on this hopeless scene, a beacon of hope; a valiant warrior, ready to battle this insidious enemy; a mongoose which is known by mankind as Afforestation.

The Mongoose lays before Man a solution: a pursuit most noble. It shows them the answer to their problem.

 

He says:

“When greenery shall rule the Earth, when Man shall reverse to trees, when the forests shall grow again, then shall the Race of Man rise again…”

And so, with swift agility, the Mongoose darts through the ravaged landscape, its senses attuned to the slightest sign of life.

Mankind, with the help of this benevolent savior, plant trees. As years pass, Man and the Mongoose slowly help greenery rule the Earth; and the Prophecy comes true - Man rises again.

True is what Joyce Kilmer wrote:

"I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast"

And Martin Luther King Jr. rightly said:

“For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.”

And with this quote ends this tale: a tale of the rise and fall of Pollution. If only Mankind recognized this for real, and if only this tale came true. Let us hope that the Race of Man defeats this insidious enemy - let us hope that in truth, the Race of Man rises again...

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

The Most Popular Quill-works

The Dawn of Peace

Dark were the ages, dark was the time, Dark was the day, dark was night, Mankind sans guidance indulged in crime, The world was its darkest, needful o' light, Its fate, its destiny, unclear as slime. Dark, alike all, a sandy city lay, Where first in the world rose the Day, And in faraway lands shatter'd the clay, Of Ceaser's architecture ; and out was the fire, Of the Magians of the East ; and cry'd a cryer, In the city: "Behold! A son is born, A grandson of our cheiftain." That son orphan'd in early age, Left to his uncle, once went along, To Syria for trade, and met the sage, "This boy, I tell you, will be great, A prophecy'd prophet he'll be, He'll rise, and the world will see, He'll rise, and Satan will flee." Such was the priest's prophecy. Years then passed, and in one cave, A man of forty, in deep-thought, Sat, as he for guidance did crave, And as he there dwelt, he felt, Felt the presence of a noble angel, "Read,...
7 comments
Read more

Even The Donkey Knows

It was a bright morning: a day which was both a beginning and an end. The year’s last month met its last day, the first of the next was to see its beginning. In the green lively Jungle of Pashuvan, a pack of wolves gathered to hunt, led by Greyroi – the revered leader, whose skill was no match and who was held in esteem among all the wolves of India. “In the south of this patch of territory, on the borders of this noble pack’s land, is a herd of seven sheep” Greyroi declared “It is clear that these are wild and do not belong to Man. Hence, we are at full liberty to hunt this prey which has so willingly ventured into our hands. And now before we march, remember: the cubs shall not attack. They will only ambush the escaping animal. With the permit of mine, only shall the pack charge. And so, march on, hunt on, O Pack of Pashuvan!” As the wolves surrounded the sheep, and at Greyroi’s signal, attacked them, a voice rang through the air: a voice which belonged to neither the Wolves no...
3 comments
Read more

Kuwait, Small in Size, Grand in Heart.

  Ah, Kuwait! A land of sparkling sands and overflowing coffers, where the spirit of generosity flows as freely as the waters of the Gulf. A tale I shall spin for you, cherished reader, of benevolence and bounty, a chronicle of compassion that would warm the cockles of even the flintiest heart. Bring to mind, if you will, a nation small in stature yet grand in spirit, where the echoes of ancient Arabian hospitality mingle with the hum of modern prosperity.   Here, amidst the date palms and the gleaming towers, the act of giving is not merely a virtue, but a sacred duty, woven into the very fabric of Kuwaiti life. From the humblest camel herder to the most opulent merchant prince, the call to charity echoes deep within.   It ain’t just the zakat, the obligatory alms, though those are given with a cheerful heart, but the sadaqah, the spontaneous acts of kindness, that truly reveal the boundless compassion within.   And when the holy month of Ramadan descends, like ...
1 comment
Read more

The Fall of Baghdad: A Doleful Tale of Betrayal, Blood and Ink

 A cunning traitor threw open the Gate, In march'd legions of the Mongol Race, And a devastatingly bloody fate, The glorious Capital City of Baghdad did face, Scores and scores of innocents were kill'd, As the murderous traitor had will'd, The library, in it books of art and knowing, Was turn'd to nought but dust, All 'cause of a man who betray'd his nation's trust, And the mighty Tigris did flow, Blue from ink and red from blood, Hulagu Khan, his cold command did show, While his army seemed to be a violent flood, And at the end of it all, the Caliph of the Lands, Was trampled by a hundred cavaliers and bought to death, Betray'd by trusted, hands, And the Battle of Baghdad drew to an end, As Hulagu kill'd the traitor, for such men, their ways never mend, Such is the fate of those who betray, Those who envision their nation such a bloody day, True, they've gone astray, having left the right way.
1 comment
Read more