Was it a spectacle—filmed the whole incident? / Why didn’t you withstand? / Why didn’t you try to desist?
Oh that angelic call, yet I cannot respond. I cannot open my mouth in fear of the burning pain overpowering my senses.
Come, if you may, with swords or guns. Remember, I won’t cry and run; I will rise from the depths of the land.
In the chilly winter night as I walked past the forest, I heard a feeble crying of a baby. I shivered in my warm clothes.
Far away from the crowd, far from the glaring chaos; out of the blaring car horns, out of the shrieks of loneliness, out of all the madness that surrounds; Out of the city, out of the cacophony I chose to go and find solace.
The world grows dim and dimmer with feeble eyes. Youth turns into a broken wheelchair; Let’s walk through the desert together, you and I.
