Black marks of gun powder penetrated from skin to the bones,
Ignoring the question how it’ll save itself from nuclear demons,
It has conquered the moon and is now walking in the space
Facing there many challenges with a smile on its wrinkled face.
If there is one hardworking laborer to move a man pushed vehicle
Elevating humanity to the heights on difficult ascending elevations
Inhaling service, adding love in the blood, sending it to the auricle
I see ventricle sending love to the brain polluted with depressions,
May the breathed out hate be consumed by the deadly demon!
Let the weapon breath out coexistence as trees breath out oxygen.
The humanity is still charming like a couple enjoying life on the hills
No worry love is still the most powerful instinct of the sick old man
I hope this slave of his instincts though weak can face the thrills
That come on his way on a hill station; can he love, yes he can,
It’s not yet dead, it thinks more, the humanity might have grown old
With silver on its head, in its heart it has a thick mass of glittering gold.