Imagine, if the trees could bleed
and the flowers cry out in pain,
Man wouldn’t worship graven image
nor aspire for the heaven in vain.
Imagine, if the sea unleashes
its waters on earth to freely roam,
Why man would eye the heavens
why not make this his home?
A heavy load sits on my soul
when I see life the way it fares,
Fate is a treacherous peddler
and it’s partial with its wares.
What grieves your heart and
perturbs your mind the most?
When remorse is the house and
repentance makes an ideal host.
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