Mama Earth

As I take a look inside me, I witness only wars and bloodshed, and agony of my innocent beings.
One of my harsh souls abuses and tortures my other tender children.
The rigid ones claim to be masters of me and try to bind me fully.
 Without coexisting with other sentiment creatures, he commands that no other living things have the right to dwell in me.
But as a nurturer, I can't delineate between my children, as I look upon every speck and vast creation as my own, in equal measures.
But they are sectioned off from each other by caste, creed, and status.
They are fighting for pieces of me. I often mull over, "Where did I go wrong by birthing them?"
So I try to amend my mistakes as a motherly soul, through quakes and flood, so that they learn lessons.
But alas, my spirit is dimming again and again and again.
But I am too unbending, restoring the order...