"Fire burns in the bosom of the poor"
Poet Mahin Mortaza

Desperation crowd refuge in the prison of ruins
Slowly becoming a cool body, life is crossing.
Anal is burning in the chest of despair, the burden of debt on the shoulders
In terms of catch-all rules, honesty is key.

Volcanism is likely, in the catchment life The threat of creditor, however, was in deep sleep.
Livelihoods have stagnated, price war has increased
The policy is blocked by the wealth of the rich, while the poor manage the accounts of the poor.

The bribe dervishes are doing daily pocket puja
The helpless poor are being punished unnecessarily.
I understand that freedom has come! For maskers?
Helpless but face! Can't match their food?