A puff of smoke, a sip of wine, couldn't make the events so divine,
a bit more tame.
The hopes of yesterday and the sorrow of today came down together, with a rumble and dismay
fresh renderings of thoughts are all that's left, crafted by time as just another bliss of hope,
when ignorance itself is becoming a friend from a foe,
all the damned souls, the epic fails align to scatter once again as the earth squeezes out the very last of their happiness
A divine play I tell you, of a deity dark and grey, igniting the fire of death and sorrow among the people already in hell
Damaged houses, even more grave dreams
the number of the ones no more, is like that of a movie scene,
bodies upon bodies, death piled them up, happiness a question, another unsung song.
It shakes now, it shakes then it will shake everyone again,
the earth I mean, not the hopes and dreams, not the truth within the lies,
guess the shaking never stopped, it just breaks you down,
but a Nepali is a fighter, we'll turn it around.