Peace Poem by MOLOY BHATTACHARYA

In a flowery garden
On a romantic morning
your glance falls
On the loveliest
Of the flowers
Spreading an aura
Of love and affection
And make you feel contented
Within your heart
Watching it for hours,
Without plucking
And possessing it,
You derive from it
A unique pleasure,
Peace is the name of it.

With a clean face
but an evil desire
in the malicious mind
You set out in the dark
Like a king in battle
To eclipse the world
With terror and violence
As you grow mad and hungry
For blood, only blood
human blood, innocent blood
the same that runs in you.
The smiling faces
Waiting for your bullets
Remind you of your own blood
Suffering in bed at home,
And make you withdraw
The butchering practice.
You read the message
Written on the divine faces
And cherish the moment.
Peace is the name of it.