It is lonely today,
The tales of old are no more told by the young and old !

Sinking down deep, memories flies away
Worried are the ears the enjoyed the tales of old.
Worried are the eyes that attested to the scenes of old.
As the young gather by the fire side as the old told tales of the jungle and mother nature.

Gone are the days of old,
Gone are the memories of old,
Gone are the morals of proper upbringing and culturing,
Lost and gone are we,
Lost and capsized are our route.

Quicking down as quick-sand, we wave "bye" to the...