First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 237

RAISE - U.C. Tonie Is that your mission? Were you given the permission? At your birth the cloud darkened, the moon turned red, the night so cold, great dust raised amidst heavy rain. Only to raise you, your father’s treasure gone, mother’s pain unending, sorrows dined with sufferings, surrounded with afflictions, perils, wails, starvation, maltreatments. Just because you were raised, your mates you wiped out, seniors around, You pushed in abyss of oblivion, without any opinion, made yourself unequal. Tribalistic you were, 237