Down in the dell, young faces buried
For no reason other than poverty.
Life is unpredictable ,
Especially for those who have young hearts and innocent soul.
It is a loss not only for the family
Also For the future , For the nation !
Talents were ephemeral , So was life,
Working incipient for bread,
For educating their siblings with little feet
It is a woebegone period !
A period which should be evanescent ,
Suddenly the morning borne appears ,
As the coffin , buried plumbless .
Those blithe faces shall never been seen again !
Oh god ! Can't I just gambol this time ?
The death of the young is ineffable.
Oh god ! May they be in peace,
If not so when alive, at least in heaven !
Till the time we meet again,
With a world full of peace and bliss!
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