When will we have peace?
When will we have our head held high?
When will we not be deeply disappointed?
When will we not feel extremely discouraged?
When will we not feel paralyzed?
When will our mind be without fear?
When will weather be in our favor?
When will our soul be free of sin?
Why we find our mind bare?
Why we feel our heart broken into fragments?
Why we feel lost in the desert’s sand?
When we go into the depth of the happening,
We feel the time is hiding the real truth,
We feel pity for their narrow minds,
We feel pity for not being frank,
The more we think the more we get depressed,
Some time we find ourselves standing on the scaffold,
Waiting for the platform to be moved,
For getting the execution completed.
Will that be the end of our thinking?
Will that be the end of our suffering?