They snatched our dear ones
Killed some in body
Murdered minds of some
Shall we kill them all?

The rose washed infant
Who smiles to our hearts
The many women
And men, peace loving
Striving to lead lives
Decently like us
They follow that faith
Will kill them for that?

Let crescent moon be coconut
Coat’s slice for ‘dhunuchi’ embers
Or burning oil filled clay diya,
Shoeflower for Goddess Kali
Be five cornered star at Eid night.
Straight we stand, arms outstretched for all
Lets be the cross on a church wall.