Broken homes alongside 

broken bones you caused, 

Tears and pain you brought.

Comforting sorrows you we bought.

Holding onto messages that could path us, 

Calls that could deform us. 

Images that could bring smiles to our faces when faced with crisis.

You came to give us a new world, but stole that which we value most. Advancement with a new beginning till eternity, leading us astray like blind shadows.

Though the wrong path we took,

You still help us ease the way, 

Giving us comfort to stay.

The information you do not withhold,

The new things we can't wait to behold. The practices we've gotten accustomed.

All for the Telephone.

We are the lucky ones

The remnants of our polluted universe.

We are the villagers.

The ones who are now describe as privileged.

 

We are the lucky ones.

The offsprings of the mighty one,

We are the disgraced,

The ones who have now experience Grace.

 

We are the lucky ones.

The victim of unfavorable condition,

We are the famished,

The ones now nourished.

 

We are the lucky ones.

The survival of explosion,

We are the slaves,

The ones whose enemy have been slayed.

 

We are the lucky ones.

The evidence of hope,

We are the lamed,

The ones who miracle has claimed.