Drowned are they and burned are they, for its the rule laid by the mother creator...

Drowned, Crashed and Burned 

Hold the tea cup,

sip your tea as

it's raining outside 

a gentle drizzle, so cool

but it kept them wet and moist.

Everything seemed a cycle 

of life, the seasons: the desired turns 

made by the mother creator

to blend and mix 

the go of life.

The rain slowly made it's way for-

and it was chilling cold 

they experienced, but it was 

much wanted 

to burn a fire near.

The fire to burn 

not the woods

but the fire to burn 

the mud mad men and 

the hypocrites among them.

Before they spoil the world 

certain it is 

the mother creator would plan 

the sequel of 

birth and burial.

And I watched, 

through my window pane 

the seasons working well

the desired plans: at last

drowned, crashed and burned!

@ Parvathy