With ages we reunite,
And the mercy never dies,
Yet these folks are reckless filthy,
Wrapped with witty,
Legit have no pity,
On our lively city.

Perceiving the woodsman’s wrath ,
grabbing their axes and blades
To increase their sales and trades,
by annihilating our melodious forest tales, In the name of green earth day.
And still we say mercy never dies,
Though we have no sympathy left in us.

Oh Lord, Why has this gay green summer Turned into a grey echoed graveyard?
Where are the gleeful children gone, who once played hide & seek behind the whispering green?

She looks in her eyes,
Seeking the light that never dies,
Even when the shadows rise.

Her face still glows
Like the brightest star is the sky,
Even In the deepest lows,
Gentle as a doe.

Not just a impressionist
Or a perfectionist,
But also a professionist.

Wisdom is wrapped in her tenderness,
Strength disguised as her gentleness.
Full of fire, full of grace,
She walks her path at her own pace.

With contrast in personalities,
we got the similarities.
Cause our heart share the same tides,
And Without any hindrance she guides.

Sometimes a warrior, sometimes a swarm
Yet she always keeps me warm.
Because She is, and always will be,
My super duper mom.