On this mountain, whence, many cantor cried
Before their voices fade out and indeed died
There now I stand with my mouth agape
My hand to my ear like the muezzin's shape
Calling to order those who derailed in the path
Our trusted minds in the lead in the doomed-full path.
On this my ancestors hill I have stood and wail
Like the other callers that's got all blame
Praying for our thinking that's so slow like snail
Crying silently against our rising shame!!!