It was early in the morning of September 11,1990 when a child was born. The event took place in the city of Urmia, North West of Iran. An existence which was not optional for the baby became a force to live. Poor baby, he had no choice over his being, nor on his place of birth, and still nor over the date of it. Now the baby was doomed to grow up and come to understand drab bitterness and moments of sweet pleasures. It was a pity that the joys were just momentary and the pains were as long as life. The child was among people with who he couldn't mentally connect, and so, for him humans were not the same as he imagined. They were harsh, senseless and wild, even though he could see some exceptions here and there. But, generally, the child couldn't bear the evil humans. By passing of the time ...
Under rain of words I stand,
Can't even wash my brain or hand,
Full of sins, aware and unaware, it's our brand,
To act bad, to hide truth under sand.
And now all, me, she, we
Are alone, hopeless, can't you see?
Everything's cold, even my tree
Of knowledge which makes me free.
Full with emotins she weeps,
Me too, all we do, no kiss with our lips.
The clothes of wolves are now wore by sheeps
That's why I kill the nights by my sleeps
Forgive me, forgive us, for what we have done,
And we shouldn't, and for what we haven't done,
But we should have done,
Because you're God, and from Truth we can't run
Because about Judgement told us, your Son.