Wind and breeze are separated todayCrimson twilight denies to fade away Grass blades turn brown to match the soilWe pretend to smile at every turmoil

Let all the green leaves be mineas long as the trees define shades created by their limbsfor the soil made with victimsof atrocity's vileness to redeem the fragileness

The land is always there...it is you who has to return

My mind mends my motives and my notion navigates my natives,for we all are made of soil-our corrupted soil.