Our agony-filled mother
Whose children we tend to slaughter.
Who weeps for humans' self-indulgence?
Zillions of critters are lost
To our inhuman deeds.
To our ceaseless needs.
But ! Mother’s smile is what we need.
I have not been allowed
To find my imagined horizons
Neither harmonious place nor time,
Neither hoping nor action;
All my grand hopes
Got turned into ice
With blood that painted horrors
Within the days which were ...