Right

Right 

Craving and hung in flame 

They need to live on earth, 

Seeing their survival strategy, the agony is terrible 

The skeletal body is theirs 

In transit back, in the arrangement of non-nourishment. 

The substance of disappointment in their eyes 

The pitilessness of destitution 

Chuckles got away from their lips 

Thumbs up operating at a profit hands are broken 

They are biting the dust crying and crying 

There is no cure yet 

Be that as it may, they are illicit offspring of Bengal 

Is not it the privilege to spare them?