The Farm
A cosy place of living creatures,
Animals of various shapes and sizes,
Of diverse capabilities and strengths,
Living in harmony together.
The Farmer built and nurtured it,
Day after day,
Month after month,
Year after year.
As he left for the mountains,
In search of a Different Perspective Potion,
Entrusted the farm, he did, to a close friend.
Like a baby to trusted nanny.
Days passed,
Into months.
Some creatures mutated.
Some went to the dark side.
Harmony in diversity eroded,
And shattered,
Like a mirror broken by forceful stones.
Weeds, crows took over the Farm.
Even vulture-like creatures too.
Neighbourly ties broken,
Relations with the local grocer set aside.
Up went the walls,
With barbs.
Inside training all day long,
To prepare for going on crusade.
The Farm, now a military camp.
The Farm's no more.
Reduced to ashes in spirit,
Feelings crushed, morale deadened,
Years of nurture eroded.
