Age

Sound of drums 

Again dusty of wind

Still running for my life 

Blood of path 

The boots of crowd

A black masked boy 

Now following my actions

Shivering my body 

Red mask of young man

Stones are throwing me 

The rainy of salt 

Both of disappeared 

My hands are tickling 

Gunshots are everywhere 

Crying of wounded faces 

Request my slightly help

The sun rises again

 My hands are wounded 

Crying for water 

Now an old man

Laughing me 

It's real my face

Now, I am new victim 

Again for searching my water