Behind the mountains we spoke of dreams; dreams bigger than these pockets
In between thoughts, our hearts swayed from side to side
Nursing doubts like Thomas, yet, staying true to Isaiah's prophecies.
Shrouded behind the mountains, sprung fountains of unwavering bonds;
Bonds no hands could build and in our hands, a passion no breeze could freeze.
The drills are piercing and yes, we've tried every pill.
But with the bills, these hills and the drills, we brew our lethal cocktail of success.
Let the lessons flow, with it our hearts would glow. Let the music play, someday we'd return to clay.
But between the tunes, we played no deadbeats- of course our land rippled with a million heartbeats.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem