Happy New Year.

When I see havens raining tar,
fountains sprinkling skulls,
rivers streaming with white and black,
when a detestful child is not so far,
pointing at us with grins,
for how long did we wish and hope,
for it to be a bless,
now she lies in her grave lined by our memories,
congratulations, a new sister,
sure she is the change,
after all what my eyes have seen,
and an ideal of a rotten child,
what difference would she be
and what change can she brings.