Rose, Sunflower, and Lily
decided to get in a war train,
A sunflower was fearless and believes’ she can turn this journey into peace,
Rose was afraid to see everything red like her skin,
But a lily carries just pray with her fragrance,
A journey begins from Lahore,
People were rushed to get in the war train,
Lily asks Rose, Why they are in War train?
Rose says; I don’t know?
Lily was afraid,
She felt’ that her presence won’t change anything,
This train was on its way to Delhi,
Delhi, where people are already in a War train,
And Lahore to Delhi start believing that war is a solution,
But’ Solution of what?
The solution to destroy every rose, sunflower, and lily,
The solution to making every drop of water as poisoned,
The desire to see bloodshed,
The desire to stop playing children's in the parks,
The desire to not let grow a single crop in the soil of mother earth,
The desire to war for sake of war,
A solution comes from the songs of peace,
From the chances to let grow the roses, sunflowers, and lilies,
Swords, Bombs, Bullets, Jet planes and Nuke are not the solutions,
They are the end of all hope,
Hope to live in a love with a rose,
Hope to start a morning with a sunflower,
Hope to sleep with the pray as a beautiful lily,
But the question is who will stop this war train?
Many stations pass,
But none care to stop the war train,
And people of both side,
Just closed their eyes and souls
for nothing but for War,
They did not care; this war train is carrying the message of End,
But Rose, Sunflower, and Lily now knows, this is not their fault of believing,
It’s a fault of war train frenzy,
If this train won’t stop here
then each glimpse of life will be gone forever and ever!

By; Nida Mahmoed.

We all have happy places,
Where evil never rears it’s ugly head.
A garden of eden,
Or perhaps a summer camp in the Berkshires.
Or maybe it’s an island with sunsets made of gold,
Or a market with food that tastes like friends, like laughter.
Maybe it is the place you call home,
Or maybe it’s the fear you call death.
We all live life for now.
We laugh, we cry and then we die,
Those we’ve left behind clinging to our pale corpses.
Or maybe they’re clinging to their own memories of us,
The things that they won’t forget until they join us in the void.
Life ends, and then our loved ones end, and so do our happy places.
That summer camp you love?
It’s a filthy landfill.
Your sweet island?
It’s been buried in the waters of former ice caps.
The market that was your refuge?
It’s been nuked, just like New York, Moscow, Paris.
All things end.
All things end.

Here it comes peace inbound.
Falling down without a sound.
There is no discrimination.
It's only goal annihilation.
Mankind's destructive wonder.
Made to tear the world asunder.
Great big bomb in the sky.
Last thing we see before we die.

A ripened sky splits and bleeds
Mangled reds and blacks;
An instant melts as heat from
Clustered newborn suns --
Blistered from the wounds --
Collects and beams 1600 feet
Earthwards from Fat Man's
Plump and pompous underbelly.

The pure-light pin-***** stopped
The city's pulse for a moment;
Collecting remnants of the
Beating hearts (of artists,
Doctors, students, parents,
Preachers, rats, and peasants)
To plant on rotting soil -
A hellish fungal pustule.

The swelling abscess breathed
But once and burst to
Ripple excess outwards
Soaking up the landscape;
Ingesting miles and spewing
Spores towards septic skies to form
A mass of mushroomed
Might and pyrrhic triumph.