Maria's Swollen Eyes

Even the witches in Macbeth
Will not be able to trace a bird
That flew over Maria’s head.
Neither can they tell the fortune
Nor they are informed about hands of death
They have to seek for shelter from the storm
Maria’s swollen eyes gonna get burst in blood
It gonna paint the town in red

The real prey is now praying to the sun
Not for another night
Which took away Maria’s daddy
Where the wind blew away
Daddy’s sonnet
And fitted a bullet in his head
The sky will be torn apart
The clouds will get darkened than ever

Maria is reaching them
Marching on the same roads they used to
Maria has forgotten the friendly fields
Where she walked upon the cotton like soil
Now all that she remembers
is the soil that buried his father and her dreams

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