Soon after they left their homeland,

They found themselves drowning in quick sand.

To come out from that muddy land,

She offered them her golden hand.

They were skilled riders,

On the run to a secret river

They hear footsteps of soldiers approaching them

Times were tough for the teachers then

They had one day at a time

At eventide they moved to different circles.



Journalists travelling in a forest

Use twigs and feathers to feed the saddest

They make tools and shelters

Giving us dreams of sculptures

The war is not for the chair

It’s a matter of rules we prepared

They thought they need more like them

So they kept checking in Sysandria

Astonished horses go after the itching mare

The soldiers soon found their lair



Roll No.14 has much to learn

Roll no.23 is the Aphrodites’s son

Roll no.27 wants a gun

They all look lovely and weird

Smoking inside the class with illusive chairs

Travellers test them for a higher calling

And they don’t want to leave these darlings

Roll no.14 wanted to tell his story of gold

The teachers killed his curiosity,

But they couldn’t witness his bold entry.



They have always been unfit for this world

Arizel is a Penelope for these lads

They feel glad to buy her new hats

Students get nightmares when they are in bed,

Sysandria dynasty keeps them well.

We don’t know whom shall we choose,

So that we could turn the pauper into a king,

We live in a world full of echoes of him

Silent forest of dreams gives us enough,

A period of your past or a run-over your future turf.

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