I foresee a lady of virtue,
She plods toward river of success,
Hurdles cradle behind her in legion,
Not even a mere fortune ever smile on her.
She’s blessed with fifty-four children,
Scattered along banks of seven rivers,
Hot sun strikes them all day and night,
All that I see on her.
Her hopeless seems hopeful,
Even when her children toy with blood in peace,
Shapeless in structure and size,
She’s subtly imbedded in corruption!