Rustic leaves
On erected hills
Hoary winds
On tinted trees

Lonely spooky path.
With ecstasy drowned
Into the muggy sands of solidarity
Flames of fire moves within this vicinity.

Welcome to the widow road
Where laughters are made sober
Where tear drops falls down
Like rain upon slippery ground

A road overwhelmed with memories
A place where women of old,
Create melodies, by stumping and stamping their feet,
On the grime of grief.
They still rummage the ashes and dust,
In search for lost serenity.