When the Village Was Alive

There was a time when nights were quiet. Only crickets, prayers,

and firelight. Children laughing, doors unlocked. Every soul known by every knock.

Stone roads, dust, and summer rain. Nobody rushed. Nobody complained.

We were poor but we were whole with faith deep in our souls.

When the village was alive. We had time, we had pride. Now we're rich

in rules and poor in soul. Trying to remember who we were before.

Now the roads are smooth and wide. But strangers live side by side.

We see more cars than human eyes. More screens and stars in the