If Bangkok is the nation’s heart,
she is raped and burned,
‘though she has survived,
her souls is scared.
For those lifeless rubbles and ruins,
are but her spirit shattered into pieces,
and the thick river of black dust,
is her bloody tears dried in silent pain.
Our souls are but her organs,
we all shall die but Bangkok lives on,
will time heal this lingering sorrow?
will shadowly scar become fatal cancer?
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