All Fleshy chicken were not sinners
Whom we are saying anything?
Its just a Holed bamboo which ,
Gives some lovely sounds..
Those ugly Black clouds, was raining to the earth..
A hut in a village, And
Rows of Green trees on river side,
People were doing good in a manner.
On sound of wind,
All the people asleep
This earth was far away, from me,
Who knows the reason?
That's why am I born?
Why am I born? AND why opened my eyes?
I don't know! Yes, I don't know!
Whom, I? Who will know? Who will say?
Whom there? To know.. What will they do?
What's the reason? Who knows that?
What the move? Where to I be?
Whom there to guide?
Whom there at side?
How I want to be? Why am I born?
What is the reason? Just to die?
Or just get eaten? Or just to cry for all?
Or to alone? What's inside of my own?
Is, I am almighty?
Who is he? Inside me?
Or what I see?
Is any matter that I have to deal?
Yes, notwithstanding the fact what that is there? Then?
Why am I born? What's the reason?
Who will say? What's my own way? ..
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