Their roots are no longer a sight for sore eyes,
they have abandoned their beginnings!
before their eyes the negation became the truth
"my future, my roots"a phrase they know not;
but still they cry,
with curios tears built within their hearts
they cry for the mythified purpose of living
generation of broken reeds!
blind in their own cause,
they framed logical equivalence of wrong and right
so they do things in vacuum sight!
could it have been atleast a hidden purpose
the eye would not see so the heart woudn't grieve over
let me not forget my beginnings...