Birds chirp what tragic sound
Clouds stir the grey above
Soil cries in hopeless bound
Breeze howls for withering dove

As raw mind could loose a hell
As sad clown could scare the cheer
Who calls upon a foul spell
And leads our central form to fear

For last of water calls for war
For red air scorches critters’ lungs
All elements go waste so far
And all the glory songs that sung

And she knows she built up
To break and follow same essay
He thinks he owns it, cry of wisdom
So goes on walking, sin to pray

Now she’s arid not green, not blue, not rhythmic
She’s going to bring a fruitful change
And bring a havoc to all she made
Unique, beautiful, lost yet strange

For birds don’t chirp a single sound
They are the bones long decayed
Clouds stir the acid surround
And fall blistering and dismayed

Soil shifts in air, now boundless
Free from restrictions, unable to give
Breeze howls now a smell of stress
She finds no form that used to live


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