What can be said of this land
With my people threading on it
It has become a wailing land
Life is born and given away
We have seen the vision of the world
Happiness spreads through it
But sadness sways it
In it rhythm we love and hate
The peace of our ancestors still reign on us
Our enemies brings war against us
We solicit for help
There is no one to heed to our call
Now I can only see the tears and blood of my people.
The cloud has laden;ready to fall on us
It all seem like a dream but reality ll bring it back to us.
It has become a grave yard.
Should this land become a ghost town?