Lashing out at the rage,
The cause of the breakup but it is too late to wake up
Because she is already a goner breath.
The bid for resurrecting a carcass united with the sand to feed on a plant is a ruin.
So let it be.
Let it be.
Someway somehow when the inner waters begins to boil in any season
This shall be the soil to visit for lesson in history.
Let not the rings of its trees remind you years spent cooking stones because of your urge to boil.
Let this be awakening, wounded lion.

Touch my heart
Let me melt into your arms
Am a singerbird waiting for someone to listen to my sweet melodies
Chirp chirp chirp my lyrics go
And sweet they sound in the ears of the one who loves me
Soften your hands
Then I can feel your touch better
Allow me in
Then enjoy my rhythm
The sweetness which is reserved for you
For you and you alone

Let not rage relieve peace off her duty
That is the mood of a woman when another takes away her beauty
For what is left a shine on the face of iron when it gets rusty
So don't see someone's honouring event as your party
Don't especially with impunity
That's no pay for a person's ingenuity
It's evil coveting someone else's ideas your property
Plagiarism destroys creativity
It is honour stripping activity
Dip your mind into the well of creation and draw out the complexity
Then understand how it is to create
And appreciate how plagiarism makes creativity emaciate
Like a mother hurts when her child is in pain
A creator feels when his efforts are being rendered a vain
Credit he who credit is due
And earn honour for your own efforts too