Tears of Wayanad

In Wayanad's hills, where the rivers flow,

A sorrowful silence, the winds now blow.

The earth, once firm, gave way in pain,

As the heavens wept, in a torrent of rain.

Lives were lost in the sudden strife,

Snatched away from the embrace of life.

Homes once filled with love and cheer,

Now stand empty, a witness to fear.

The trees that stood so proud and tall,

Fell to the ground, answering the call.

Of nature’s wrath, unleashed that day,

Taking so much, then fading away.

The cries of mothers, the tears of kin,

Echo through the valleys, deep within.

For those who left, without goodbye,

In the blink of an eye, under a darkened sky.

But in the ashes, where hope seems small,

The spirit of Wayanad will stand tall.

For in the hearts of those who remain,

The memories of the lost will sustain.

Though the wounds are deep, and the pain is near,

In time, the land will heal, sincere.

And from the sorrow, strength will rise,

As Wayanad looks to brighter skies.