World Poem by ROCHISH MON

Stones fell. Wounds sustained. Hurts, pains… a lot were generated.
Who threw those stones? When those were thrown? Not known categorically.

Some people want to find out that.

Some people are thinking about the stones. Some analyze the hurts and pains. A few people came forward to treat the wounds. A few good people are in search of better treatment.

Stones fell.
Religions, sects, creeds, regions, differences…
Stones fell. Wounds were sustained.

From our society blood secrets and tears exude. Our land was drenched. And on the top, the sky does not speak.

Situation is so for a long time. And the situation will be the same in days to come.

The wind, the water, the sky and the fire must explode.

A revolution must burst as revolution.

An unprecedented deluge must come on the earth. At least for once, peace should sprout and spread.

Hey poet,
From you, poetry should be born.