Still, there is a vague stain,
Let it remain like this, it will fade, it will wade!
He had a vague memory,
He was looking for his origin,
His plane was crashed,
Landed on an island, no man,
But only coconut trees,
A feeling of exile,
He was fighting for survival,
It seemed like he was in primitive age,
He invented the fire again,
Rubbing the two stones,
Living a life all alone,
He was making his new memory,
With all new inventions,
He was literally at a noman’s land!
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