Your short lived life, child, was already inked.
Long dried on to pages of history books,
where diplomats in neat cut suits –
took delirious decisions for land, for money, for you.

Your years on this much talked of planet
The only one with life they say –
were already penned when powerful men
chose brainless butchering again.
Laws and rules and faith and belief,
clouded their judgement of grief.

You had no say ;
You had no guns ;
no nuclear weapons, no shield against explosions.
Laws and rules and faith and belief,
just sounds trying to creep into
your vocabulary.

Burnt up forests, shattered walls,
Battered buildings and broken roads.
They wrote down every heartbeat of yours,
as they fought over these blooded bodes.

You were too naive, child,
a mere puppet whose strings lie
in hands of men with neatly cut suits
and camouflaged boots,
who’re simply trying to protect their
Laws and rules and faith and belief,
and lands more precious than you.

You had your time, child,
Your next will probably be better –
far, far away from where logic bows down to savages.

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