You are the Home of Peace,
Though I met you while you were in dire need of a peace enforcer.
Had I met you in one piece,
I’d have dined upon your famous fish from a golden saucer.
Who dare say that you have lost it all!
For I see a vast stretch of fallow land beyond my unaided eyes,
With vegetative evidence of the fertile land growing tall
Beckoning on the cultivator to come back home alive.
Alive we wish they’ll all come back.
For in you a great future lies
For our progeny present and those unborn.
They need their inheritance back to join in life’s strives.
When shall the blasts stop,
And the copper shells disappear?
When shall your muddy remains be patched up,
And your roofs be thatched?
The large city still bubbles with silent hope.
She has remained resilient and refused to fall.
For to whom would we run,
If she doesn’t shelter us like the mother hen?
I see grains and tubers from your farmlands;
The great lake supporting life, while I play with its beach sands.
Those cowboys must roam the bushes freely again
And you will be the Home of Peace, this time without disdain.