The birds are tweeting but
Seems as silent on the nebula day.
The shining sun and brightening sky
Look as a murky ways.

The morning is of sorrow,
At the tea-stall and on a turning point 
Men and women are discussing
about the catastrophe.

The young boy of six and twenty
Had full of religious faith;
The developing boy of his family
Was working at the age of fourteen,
But He perished on the march of eighteen.

The newly married boy has no more life
Who leaved his gorgeous wife
And also the three months infant boy in her lap
The white devil squeezes Him with jab.

Just before the festive of Holi
Disappeared the elder son of his family .
He had no fortune to insist holi
with his family and spouse.

The starve boy was coming from his shop
To home but had not fate for caddy.
The white Bolero with a drunken cabby
Made an unforgettable calamity.
The police is showing as negligence
With corrupted smell of essence .

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