Puppets

In sooth, it wearies me and all of my fellows,

To be the puppets of nature; my goodness!

If the soil wants to shiver and moves down below,

We run here and there, searching for secured places.

The clouds may feel sad and start crying,

But without trying to console them , we rush to our homes,

Nature may feel hot and may change the weather map,

As a result, we quickly put on ourselves, thick layers of robes.

If someday and sometime, the leaves stop preparing oxygen,

We don't know of ourselves, but there may be a shortage of oxygen cylinders,

And if the plants and shrubs, the animals disappear from their dens,

We will only pray to God for mercy, and then die of hunger.

We may only think nature as suppliers, us as rulers,

We, the only source for inventions and developments on Earth.

We are just the puppets , whose every second of life is controlled by nature,

As nature gives us our being, every essential amenity , from our very birth.