-Ishita Luthra-

The crinkle of trees,

Are the same each year.

Tick Tick the minutes go by I feel so free,

 I can see everything, even a lovely kind dear .

I can hear each voice of the water,

 going plop plop

  The fire is so bright it’s like Quasar.

 I don’t want to sound like a brager, 

 But finding this place is better than anything else.

My days are filled with joy and harmony 

I don’t need no money.

The mist hovers and covers the whole city

Even each flower is as pretty.