The society we raise our children in and grow old in will again be divine.
The air is fresh, the water clean, forest whole, trees proud, sounds of nature fill my ears. Dear ones are near, alive and passed. Life’s cares met from cradle to grave.
The society we raise our children in and grow old in will again be divine.
The air is fresh, the water clean, forest whole, trees proud, sounds of nature fill my ears. Dear ones are near, alive and passed. Life’s cares met from cradle to grave.
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