.jpg)
We wished for light when summer arrived. Prolonged days to drive the night away. However, the skies became gray, the sun turned cruel, Its heat is no longer mild or chilly.
The streets were formerly alive with music and joy. Echo quiet now, loud and distinct. The refrigerator is empty, and the fan is motionless. The heat is as dense as if it were loaded with air.
The youngsters perspire with vacant eyes, There was no lovely surprise, no cool wind to calm. Markets are lifeless, with empty booths, And on decaying walls, hope hangs low.
Not just from the forest floor do flames erupt. However, it comes from the center of injustice. The leaders speak, but say nothing. Their voices are silent, while many people are starving.
Joy now even feels like sin, With misery seeping through every smile. Summer's gloomy days are intense and profound, The place where we cry as the daylight watches.
We continue to wait, breathe, and manage nevertheless. Maintaining a strong grip on unwavering hope.
