If I had a million dollars,
Then I will be set free.
From the bondage of this sadness,
From the cell they’re keeping me.
I’m accused and taken hostage,
I’m deprived of my own freedom.
Their assumption held no truth,
That I’ am ’tis a wealthy man.
The spoils of war in my dear land,
Swallowed the reasons of our pride.
The true grounds became vile,
The great minds – fallen exiled.
As I wrote my rhymes and idioms,
Behind this pallid bolted walls.
My son! Oh my dear love!
Is there fighting for my soul!
I can hear it outside!
I can hear it outside!
Their tremors and their shaking!
The screams and wails of young!
Explosions from all direction!
And it ended with a BANG!
Please be o’ God!
I bow and pray to thee!
Their grief and my great sorrow,
Listen to my plea!
My love, so as my hope,
It’s all slowly fading,
The candle of my strength,
Will come to reach its end.
I’ am in here, still waiting,
fragile behind the walls,
Gazing at the daylight,
asleep when midnight falls.
This is an anecdote of my battle,
My accounts of tales in war.
Where the tides may have upturned,
If I had a million dollars.