The river banks which once would have been, for lovers-a safe haven
The river which would have been a business blossom for the fishermen,
The plunges into the river bed, the little naked boys enjoyed probably,
The gushing of the water as the oars scrape through, rowing the boats lightly.
But often the water wished differently,
It did not remain a safe haven and it ruined the fishermen..
The little boys pined to rejoice in the water with giant leaps,
But their mothers clutched them close and all they did was weep..
The river of sorrow, the story of pain,
millions marooned, many maimed..
Just an embankment could have stopped from hell breaking loose,
You will shudder and you will wail, if you're in the victim's shoes..
Destruction done is done,tears rolling over cheeks , dropped in the flood.
Its time to lend a helping hand, its time to stop talking and start doing...
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