How small we are, yet how big
Our graves that we dig.

In a hut or room, cottage or house,
Are we not laboratory mouse
In the hands of Human Almighty
Who builds village, town or city,
District, state or country?
Are we really folks gentry
Ruling subcontinent, continent?
Are we not the self proclaimed incumbent

Of this planet earth?

Solar system, stars, nebula, cosmos
And then?

Nothingness.

Information is now currency,
Nuclear warheads and biological weapons,
Another man-made big bang on earth;
No room, no house, no city,
No hut, no cottage, no village.
Another hundred years or may be less
To turn the cradle of civilization into a deathbed.

O! Oppenheimer what have you done!