A man who has passed his night in dreaming vices
Tears in his eyes, underestimating his worth
Though awaken by a touching human voice,
From the mosque a call for the prayers
The call should have been his first choice
But he reacted to the call of the players
Cats and eagles and the street dogs
Prepared to play the game of difficult life
With a dashing long tongue like that of frogs
Ready to hunt with teeth, the sharpened knife
A man with a bad smelled poly bag of meat
Opens the gates for uninvited guests
Sitting on the roofs and waiting for the treat
Even lazy old eagles now become the pests
The dogs hidden below the cars parked in the lane
The street snatchers become ready for attacks
The eagles, the cats, the dogs; everyone insane,
Painful instinct of hunger no body lacks!
A war in that so many were severely injured,
Just for a piece of rotten meat, the man provided,
Though peace, law and order, he never insured,
Unanimously their god, on it they aren’t divided.
Happy he goes to the mosque for the prayers
To the lovely God who created the man
Bowed his head with a group of admirers
For the food He provides; what else he can!