These Days

With a naked eye of mine I see them leaving into the unknown, I see them sailing into the unknown, I see them running away behind the mountains, I see some of them dying badly and horribly, but I see all kinds of those poor people in bad shapes, Some got to their destinations before, but The rest got scattered like pieces of broken stones, It's horrible to see people do this or that Simply because that makes us weeping like kids for them, Some passed away to their inevitable death, so They are no more here or there to suffer, It's the Day of Judgment, but things are crazy, The hopeless dreams are everywhere because Days are hard and people's hearts are made of stone, so We wail impatiently for a nice tomorrow to come For all of us to be united in the same pretty place Which we left without our will or with our choice.