The Last White Pigeon of Peace

Going to slaughter the death like a bull felling it on ground binding tightly its four legs, we have made our earth full of death more. Going to uproot the shrubs of weeds, we have filled our life-land with more weeds. Going to destroy the darkness with all its roots, we have fallen down slipping into the darkest ditch. Our wisdom is now eating our whole body pecking at all limbs like a vulture. All our books and idle times of our laboratories are biting our soul and existence, raising their hoods like a cobra. We do not know where we have reached running like a bull tearing its rope. Our science and technology are pouring black heat upon our skulls. Our dull eyes are getting overturned again and again like an unhappy housewife hanging herself with a ceiling fan. Even the eyes of our heart are growing feeble and inactive by getting fade every day. Spitting upon all our rotten knowledge, wit, welfare and blessing, spitting upon our democracy twinging like a septic boil and spitting upon all our destructive inventions, we are eagerly waiting like swallows, like the thirsty fish of a dry pond or like the cracked fields of Summer- if it rains! if peace descends! if the last white pigeon comes flying from the distant sky-civilization out of this sky engulfed with bombing planes, carrying the message of peace!