The death of the dream

The death of the dream
My crumbled city
Near the bank was stolen
Hatred the verse of each line
And becomes cutting off
None will ask and remain absent
As slight log flows among the waves
From right to left hitting by waves
And cried on a faint voice
Yet surrendered but enough lofty
Where are the boys of my yearning time?
I shouted!
Among the muddy water,
I felt choking appealing its history
None asks about her
From a tiger took a lifetime name
Because she is a wild
Yet it was a mid danger
But having a soul of sacred worshiper
Around the table they sat together
Jews, Christians and few half-Muslims
Banteringly moving on their arguments
And no child unless was orphan
And the cemeteries witnessed
The death of soldiers
To be carried out with their mortars
And each barrel puffing a picture
Of a deadly cancer
Presuming on an ugly elf
To be a humor of our nearest century

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The death of the dream