Nuclear winter

Like a dead Tokchi Lake, shocked and injured, like a fish without water, shocked and injured, like birds without feathers, pushed by the wind, journey with a story.

*Like a dead Tokchi Lake, I was born/made for the peaks of the Himalayas, for a temperature of zero degrees Celsius or less. I survived with fewer resources, but because of your profit, your waste business, toxic chemicals, toxic waste, and climate change, now my Himalayas are registered in someone else's name. How and why? That goes to prove you all (sons of guns) are only able to cause damage, and now you expect us to clean up the mess. I demand you make my Himalayas alive again.

*Like a fish without water, a round trip—'okay, ok'—this is a necessary evil. He calls himself Captain Jack Sparrow. He fears that the compass might fall into the wrong hands. Questions arise: Who sold his compass? Moving without a compass, roving without GPS. Tell me, where are you taking us?

*Like birds without feathers, the 21st century, flooded with challenges from and to society— who cares? The pilot guides the plane, but who is guiding the runway lights? They act like they don't care, but the possibility is they don't know or understand— like a period of regency from the Namgyal Dynasty.

Like a bat telling these stories to rats with title and subtitle, Earth has changed, like a dead Tokchi Lake, like a fish without clean water, like birds without feathers, Earth has changed, has become a regular market.

There's no smoke without fire. 'You have become an acid.' Take a look at the mirror of karma. You have created a lot of pollution, plus your false pride, loud noise, so unpleasant.

Like a bat itself telling these rats some interesting facts, that bats are actually the only mammals that can fly (without an airplane) naturally. Shocked but uninjured, a loner—doing things on my own, an owner—own supporter. Who are rats? Who are bats? Who are ants? Whose pants? "Who knows?" Everything is debatable, like a nuclear winter.