Threatened Blossom

Every blossom of the tree
wants to grow, to live a life.
Like a little angel, to be free
But the winds come like a knife.
Scattered all, trampled by anyone
Shook their hearts, shattered their world.
Their blooming life was shot by the gun
Withered before they become the pure gold.
Oh Allah, Do something for the threatened victims
It snatched the fairy world of the angel.
You have to take for them such dictums
When wind thinks about it, it would tremble.