There are Saturday's morning My son and I are playing in the garden I watch his all motions To evade any troubles I give him everything He is my one's eyesight He's been learning how to walk His run means the freedom Suddenly everything he is change Before my eyes My son disappeared in the house and garden I'm looking for nowhere to be found All at once I get arrived At cesspool My son upon the top of the filth He's writhing and struggling for life The sockets where is eyes should be filled with purulent Discharge, meaningless motions in the shit I'm not able to move my legs and stretch my one's arm Be impossible to get hold of him He want to scream but the shit devoured his body Windpipe filled with urine Stomach start to decay I have no change to save him from excrement Our own shit took his life away