My hands lay beneath the shower of your blessing , oh lord,
To prevent the adversities that the clash of the sword ,
And bows and arrows do certainly make ,
As the reals fight for the ancestral fake !
They quarrel over some ancient deed ,
And to the pool of blood , they pay no heed ,
How so I wish I could have blocked them now ,
And settled for a state of peace , somehow !
But peace seems no less than a distant dream ,
To the blast of sorrow and voices of scream ,
As a matter of honour , they lay their lives ,
Leaving in dilemma , their daughters and wives …
As I wish for the flag of peace to flutter high ,
And if it can’t , then for once , just try ,
To think the better of it as a whole ,
And appreciate the piousness of every soul ..!