A heart of a petal, smooth and bright,
A stone of a cold, vintage and mark.
Carve it, you will understand the effort of a mother,
Then you take effort to destroy, when you have no right!
Her curse will never leave you,it will haunt you.
Every single day and night in every single LIFE!
God is who, when I am not giving any mercy to you,
Shouldn't you be ashamed,oh how would you be,
Guilty they should be - God, Mother and father, Mother-land.
How were you designed, that's the worlds mystery,
Why were you given the power to rule, outshine and win,
When there existed humble, loyal and bravest of hearts!
May it be your time, recoils back to newly based world,
Shouldn't have estimated wild out-reach, when you had power.
When he can be everywhere so can you be.
Fear, sadness, pity on the city, coldest of heart made,
simply would kill ourselves if we knew the ahead,
Because I am the ridge-but you can make the stones cry!
- Alex O' Connor
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Poem no. 16