Ganga

High up above I start my life,
From the icy peaks and glaciers,
As a mere tiny creek from the melt,
A small puddle of pristine water.

Jumping across rocks,
Flowing through ravines,
I come down gushing into valley
Gaining more power, momentum and silt.

Tumbling down from the mountains,
I begin to alter the environ,
Changing the shape of my surroundings
Thus blossoming the life of lives

All is well till monsoon arrives.
Picking up momentum and quantity,
I rage on uncontrollably,
On my own free will.

Wreckage, Havoc, Destruction and Pandemonium,
Death, Sickness, Epidemic and misery,
Are the souvenirs I leave by,
To be remembered for one whole year.

Hope among despair
A lotus among the ditch,
Is the silt I leave by,
The seed of the fertile land.