Pics from - Unsplash |
Noisy carades match around the three six states of the green land
Men on these Carades moody, face covered with blood stains as they match
They are forced to match towards an end with torns
Many scared, ran for their dear life
Many continued with hope of water at the end
To quench their taste at least.
Rebelling wasn't an option, hope was
These brave once wore their moody face without tears.
They hoped to reach a land filled with honey, at least they would taste the future to come
They moved without looking back with the hope of seeing a saviour
They moved, they moved, they are still moving.
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