Gradual decay
Fertile lands provided
Under the heat of the sun
Plough in hand doing nothing
Soon the sun goes down
Not a thing achieved
The grasses are green
Our crops struggle to survive
Pest thrive on them
While we stand and watch
Our minds in a deep sleep
Waiting to be awakened
Our shadows
Standing close by
But never touching
Can we please find a meeting point??
Cos right now
We're drifting apart
