Summer In My Hometown Poem by Chris Prabu

You don't need to die or
Commit great sins
To feel the fire of the hell.
Come to my hometown in summer
And be a witness for
The scorching sun's insufferable fury.


You can feel the heat
Even before the rise of the red ball.
And when the sun starts to sail
Every creature hide themselves in their shelter
Like the good, old souls tremble
When face the son of the evil.


The hot sun parches the rivers and lakes
And makes you dehydrate
And you feel like being in hot oven
When it soars over your head.
The simple, soft, light cotton clothes
Turn unbearable and heavy.


The curse of the cut down trees
For laying new highway roads
Is haunting us for months.
Droplets of water from the taps
Is elixir for many flocks of birds
And the summer mirage reminds the reign of satan.


The cloudless sky and the treeless highways
The barren rocky mountains around
Make the place hottest ever.
Dried pipelines and mile long queue
Of empty pots and quarrelling women
Depict the shadow of the horrid hell.


The distress is not yet over
Even after the successful hiding of the sun.
The so called government often test
Your patience by drop the electricity.
The deadly bushfire set by the miscreants
Engulfs the fauna of the hills around.


You don't need to die or
Commit great sins
To feel the fire of the hell.
Come to my hometown in summer
And be a witness for
The scorching sun's insufferable fury.