Think not of me-
An impedement of peace
Says a Warlord
For I have come
To strike balance between
Earth's insane world
The menace you see
Is only a martyr-To the revolution.
The Middle-East, America
Southern Europe& Africa
Are kindred of peace
For they are enburdened
With the curse of the world.
I have chosen a token
Out of hundred nations
To fight for all, this very curse
My brother, Peace
Suffered a broken wing
Now his flight to Earth-
Is into perpetual delay
Do not blame Earth
For he is furiated
By our brother's plight
His fury, motherhood of terror
Offspring of Nuclear Bombs
And Drone strikes-
Like shooting stars
I plead of you all
To reason with Earth's
Poor mental state
For he is the steep price
But soon, my brother, Peace
Shall once again-
Engage in flight
And return poor Earth's glory
To the sanity it ought to be.
Peace unto you all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem