Walking Inside The Compound

There I walked along the woods The trees which have natural talent To make a peculiar sound The whispering sound in friendship with wind The casurina trees used for poles They carries fibrous logs In heights makes their own presence The birds sits in branches As if to hear the songs of wind Just like cradle songs, they enjoys it In darkness of night the wanderers fear There it appears some kind of fearsome sound The whispers in silence, not so prettier The trees are strong enough to carry loads Not always good enough for wooden work