She will strike again

Mother nature is tolerant,
She waits, and watches
As you draw scars on her well-nourished chest.
She condones us,
As we try and manipulate with her body,
Rip her soul apart, 
Rearrange her carcass.
As we spill concrete and steel,
As we fill the ocean with poison.
As we pollute the air we breathe in.
She forgives, but never forgets.

 
She witnesses us taking her tolerance as her weakness.
But a day will come,
When her blood will boil.
Volcanoes that has been dormant for years, 
Will start oozing magma.
Icebergs, that has been just a muse for poets,
Will start to melt,
And like a snake rise in rage, 
Flaunting its ferocious chest,
Mother earth will rise in a tsunami.
She will punish us. 
One day or the other.
She will test our limits.
She will inspect the worth of our existence.
And when she'll find no reason to bear our effrontery,
She will shake us off, like tiny insects.
And her chest will start beating again,
She will shiver in pain, in agony.
That day, our lives will be endangered,
Millions will die,
Thousands will get injured.
Everywhere you see, 
There will be blood and suffering.

 
So stop! While you can.
Stop the audacity of hurting her,
Stop testing her limits.
And start respecting.
Start appreciating what you have,
What she's willing to give you.
Be thankful.
Because if she can erase up-to the last trace
Of the most powerful species,
We are mere humans, 
There will be nothing we can do,
But to pray for an easy death.
Because, she will strike again.