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.