To recite a holy verse,
From the heart.
To feel the passion run through,
To see what is true.
To love the beauty,
Of past stories', shared.
To feel the burden of life,
When life wasn't compared.
To feel the wind, when it blows',
Knowing it used to touch our parents' toes',
Nonrenewable from; from recycled code.
Do we leave the world,
So rode, from our unhealthy code.
Not looking after our forefathers' wish,
Of green pastures',
What a beautiful dish,
Of flowers'.
Red blooming,
Petals' looming, through tall grass,
Over hillside tops, from the past.
We see healthy ways', ahead,
Lets' begin to tread a new path,
Not the way of so called red.
But many flowers' lay, in the hilltop glaze,
Awaiting, a beautiful, new day.
