The Cost Of Life And Peace Poem by Prem Nizar Hameed

I never lit an oil lamp
At dawn and dusk
I never repeat any hymns
By holding the rosary
I never bow down on the floor
Five times a day
Yet I feel someone or something is nearby me

He, or She, or It?
I fail to envisage that
But it moves with me
It eats with me, it plays with me
It talks, laughs, cries with me
It sleeps and dreams with me
Like the smell in a flower
It preaches:
Peace will not come through
The flash of sword
It preaches:
Peace will not come through
The sharp ends of trident
It preaches:
Peace will not come through
The invasion of cruise missiles
Because it teaches me:
The cost of life
And that of peace are same...