Crisis

Time is high-ceiling-ed but flair is drawn out all
But the soul is run by forlorn and fall;.
In the midst of indistinct, misfortune and evil
Like violence, turbulence and exposure
Not an iota in the world to tone to the fore.
Through moral courage and fraternity
To motivate love by the strength of sanctity.
And knowledge without self-indulgence.
The people feel discomfort while moving
As if some one springs after to snatch
For clear exhaustion and robbing.
No question of morality, truth and trust
Time is art, if it is ranging glow
Around the spot where distrust bears
For through search and golden age
Where the crooks move like snow.
Around the flags of red and green;
To blow our land with patent and purity
To cross the bar with the beauties of truth
For peace and everlasting its growth.