The breast of a white dove is the journey of the race of men
Riding slowly along the right path as caterpillar’s joy walk
So far so nice so logical so rational
No fear of any accident no fear of any war
Then comes the turn where there is no sun no light
Pot holes are not seen poles are not so bright
A man from unholy land strikes him hard from behind
The wooden glass till date was safe
The vase of flower now has broken
The string no more holds the pearl
Who is to be held guilty who is to blame?
Accident does not occur only for your faults
Be you rational or gentle still you can be attacked upon
Peace is like tasteless dry fruit
And aggression is like juicy sweet
So it is better to prepare the lemon -shake before the thirst
So is to prepare the deterrence before you are thrashed
Options are two and choice three is missing
You will die or you will win
Before all these you need to decide the destiny
Before the journey you start you need the right cause
As bad taste spoils your mood
In the same way wrong cause may spoil your life in hell.