When leaves fall, the trees refuse to die,
Upon rainfall, the clouds remain alive in the sky.
When life bearing roots, are crushed however,
Even the greatest of Palmyra’s, shall certainly whither.
Amidst the screams, of a roaring sea,
Through the rolling hills, of agonizing tea,
Comes a desperate cry, seeking a forgotten justice,
Constantly drowned away, by selective blindness.
Isolated in ignorance, from the rest of the world,
Floating all alone, having once been impearled,
A lonely teardrop, the pearl of the Indian Ocean,
Awaiting the jury, to revoke its absurd absolution.
There stands a Palmyra, on rocky foundation,
As the remainder are chained, with no concession.
There stand a people, speaking out with conviction,
As they wait desperately, for that deserving resolution.
When the sun rests, flowers continue to bloom,
After our lives end, souls live on in new costume.
When the ocean shatters, into ripples however,
Even the most spiritual of lands, shall certainly shiver.
