Uneasy is crossing the billows foam.
Billions of trials are made,
And if undetermined,
Will mess up in the billows.
Difficulties and uncertainties form a myraid.
Men and women squeezing water from stones,
In search of daily bread,
But to no avail.
Are we born to suffer?
Are we naturally programmed for suffering?
Does God really exist?
Why then suffering?
Working almost day and night,
But still at a stance.
The world has cause us a great harm,
But who knows tomorrow?
B