I am in the drought of nation.
The nationality is missing.
I am in the grave where no humanity is living.
I am writing and writing to alive my voice.
I am voicing to achieve my right.
I am in grave to rise still above against the so called scholars.
I am in eye close sometimes to think everybody positive.
But it is not right.
I am in headache due to the enslaved grave.
I am eye open at night to bring my green wave of thought.
I am in the grave to raise my living voice.
I am in drought of knowledge of so called scholars.
Oh grace of Earth you will be with my green thought.
Oh cute grave you are my living soul with my green voice.
I will never die again and again in this living grave.

Parbat Paiyun 7 – now Kirtipur