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Poetry

Guns with no names

 

 

August 13, 2006
iranian.com

Over the east of the known lands
Where the justice gets out of hands
Train of dreams of an orphaned boy
Is about to depart, it's a real McCoy
Sitting by his side, almost out of sight
Waiting for his wish I may, wish I might
An angel! is down on his knees
Ready to put him at ease

I am here to dry your tears
Whisper the Gods will in your ears
Its your right no more to suffer
But from now on it only gets tougher
You have been anguished, trashed, hurt enough
I am here to take it all away, with a puff
Well God loves you, you are to be heavened
Your soul is the price, but we need to make it leavened
So take this grenade, hold it like a doll
Find a busy place, a bus stop, a shop, or a mall
The rest is in you to believe
Your side I will never leave
Buy the paradise, and the forty virgins
All the people you kill, you're just ending their sins

Am I far off, to tell the truth?
Or is it just a hallucination, a mirage, or a ruth?

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