Gun is like our toy
Life is shot at point blank.
With bullets under our belt
We have begun a new cult.
With the Bible on the lips
And the gun well under the grip,
The equation of peace doesn't tally,
Life is under a never ending sally.
Emotion is like a gathering typhoon,
Mind is like a restless baboon.
When arms are reaching such hands,
Man is only a fire brand.
Mind requires taming,
Else, life will be crumbling.
What is the net result?
Neither you nor I will exist.
Isn't it a callous situation?
Isn't it a precarious condition?
Man has reached the stars
But he is wreck-less at his internal wars.
Gun cannot ultimately save humanity
Yet, it is given all the priority.
Life is under threat and destruction,
Can we hope to bring a transformation?
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem