<≪≪ I Am Not Sick Yet Feeling Nausea

I am not sick yet feeling nausea Not by seeing the posts of wailing Palestinian mothers Kissing the frozen faces of their children of six and seven years Disfigured beyond recognition And strained with fresh blood crimson red By the booms and missiles dropped over their heads From airplanes fashionably named F-16 Supplied to a tiny Hell nation, Israel by the big brother USA But I am sick by the loud and grotesque Reactions from their spiritual silence From the men and women whose pen went violent When Malala Yousafzai was shot And the inhuman deeds done by Boko- Haram Oh, I should blame myself For my forgetfulness that This world is getting polluted Then where shall I get pure and innocent Hearts blood and mind Like that of six seven years martyred child Then where shall I find uncooked History, reason and logic As fresh as rays, rain and green leaves Untrudged by the steps of bias and prejudice Untouched by the slaves' mentality of either fear or favor And free from the crocked grip of human greed That the Holy land belongs to the Palestinians From the century seventh From the time of building the ‘'Dome of the Rock'' And where shall I go to see that This truth is accepted well without any ill argument I am not sick from the posts from my friends and foes Stating ‘safe Israel ‘ And ‘Israel has every right of self-defense ‘ And seeing races and religions backing Zionist And uniting against Palestinians And showing delights over the deaths As I had seen Nero fiddling While Rome was burnt Seen brighten faces of Changhees, Halagus Hitler and George Bushes When Mosul was plundered Bagdad was bombed to stone age And millions of Jews were slaughtered in concentration camps But I am sick with the infertility of minds Of the present Muslims throughout the world Who sit lame ducks upon hills of wealth and swim In the well of oil and gases And like cranes push their beaks into the sand of ignorance, Rise up only when their balls Titillate To play playboys, to pass time womanizing I am in awe to see them in luxury And I am astounded too to see their bravery When they practice fratricide But never know where their buttons of defense are When they are under attack by brutes or beasts When they are needed most They were not like that They have forgotten they are the sons of Saladins Within few centuries their forefathers won half of the globe And gifted it as garland to wear round their necks Threw it as offering to their feet What is needed most now is to kick The ass of those fatalists who avoid hard works and science And seek solace in praying only It is time to whip the skin red of those leaders Involved in corruptions And failed to provide funds for research and development Whip them red, man Whip them red Who sow seed of disunity and stand as bones In cementing brotherhood and fraternity And disregards your safety and security Whip them red Otherwise the world will whip you red.