If you were to hear,
If you were to listen,
Only if you’d excuse yourself and give an ear;
To the birds chirping you’d hear them cry,
about the sky,
They’ll tell you how they choke as they fly
how you ruined their home making yours.
How the clear blue sky is dusty black,
How the wars have ruined everybody.
We’ll build houses and villas,
We’ll go countries and cities,
To find an escape.
Escape from the monotony of life and the purposelessness of it all.
Will you bury the money with you when you’re gone?
Will your platinum card or vip treatment open the gates of heaven for you?
Let’s dream about a day,
A clear morning, the sun shines bright,
You wake up and pick up the morning newspaper.
You read about the beautiful girls that have been welcomed on earth,
and the ministers going to people and talking.
No guns, no fighting, no votes, no elections, no marketing.
Just talking.
Sweet words of love and a breeze of flowers swish past you,
as you sit in the open yard of your house.
House, the one you can call home.
Your daughter walks to school, fearless.
They teach her to nurture and make life, a fruitful one.
Men in the society are just men, not monsters of molestation.
The grass is actually green, and not artificially planted.
In such a world,
Mother earth, rejoices and blesses.
There are no floods, no tsunamis.
Rain, not acidic.
Just rain, pure and fresh straight from heaven,
And It doesn’t drop down on streets,
But on the ground, on earth. ‘Bhoomi’
Where it belongs, where it nurtures and brings new life.
The day the cycle of life, comes back
The day we all are one.
The day there is no money, no currency, no exchanges
That day will be “peace”,
Quiet. Tranquillity. Stillness.
That very day mankind will learn humanity.
speakingtheunsaid 