My artillery call
It’s for protection
My plead of recognition
In every profession
There is a junction of obstruction.
My call of survive
It demands for an explosion
My cry of no-surrender
Invading the jury of vindication
The ten toad-stones around my neck is broken.
My call of eruption,
It’s an expression
My trembling voice, pave way
I’m just scared and surrounded; send down
The toast of flame on enemies of progression.