Click here to listen to my composition while reading my poem. I composed
Chaconne for Strings “2050 Four Seasons – Drought” after taking inspiration from my poem below.

Dear Human Hand

The wrath of the unrelenting sun descends upon us with scorching flame,
Another child collapses as exploding sand dusts cover the remains with each step we take,
Heavy heat haze muffles the silent cries, moaning for the now invisible grand lake,
Being alive or being dead, equally a curse, and unsure who to blame.

How abundance has diminished into nothingness,
How we remain in the land of our ancestors, yet everything seems foreign whatsoever.
How the earth beneath us has moved, taking away all the lush greenery and richness,
How the vividly colorful Garden of Eden has turned lifeless and gray forever.

As the last matriarch, the sole witness to a once lush and thriving planet Earth,
Leading the final survivors for weeks towards our destination of hope.
Continuing on our barren Mobius strip, with hopes for seeds soon to unearth,
Seeking our last remaining utopia so that one more day we may cope.

Tusks digging deep, tusks digging shallow, squeezing out our last remaining strengths,
Yet cursed with the Midas’ hand which turns everything into sand,
Our hope was but a mirage and futile were all our final efforts to travel at great lengths,
Today we mark the end of our tribe, an end caused by the human hand.

P.S.
There were so many alternative ways to enjoy the Earth.
And yet — you had to bite the enticing forbidden fruit.