His chances of holding her were the same as going to the moon. There's no happy ending to the story when a porcupine loves a balloon.

When riots strike- bombing and bloodshed, look O man your own soil is red !!

The chirping birds are no where to be seen, and not even the children laughing in the green.

Over you look there- you see bombs and mothers with crying wombs !!

The roads are linked with lifeless bodies, empty vessels-no tarts, no toddies.

“The letter has reached” a man’s wise surmise little does he know about the postman’s demise!!

The weaver is with empty strings and shrunken beads, the farmer is with fruitless seeds.

The blacksmiths’s fire is out,The commander has no energy to shout, the soldier’s corpse is decorated

With torn letters, “Leave the battlefield” and thousand such deters!!

O man what will the hungry cattle eat ?

All the fodder is burnt down with the cannon’s heat.

O man the spring is near but no single leaf is here !!

How much pain will “mother earth “ bear ?

O fellowmen we stay on the same soil, then why are we trying to foil our own toil !!

Remember !! when we burn down a bit there the fire soon spreads and comes here .