A foggy winter evening,
Covered in dark
clothing,
Through the
haze, silently sitting;
Hot-coffee and
me--sipping;
In a desolate
corner of the cafe.
A Muslim, a Jew, a Christian;
A Hindu, an
Atheist-all sitting;
They gossip,
drink, laughing,
Like good old
friends, beaming;
Life became
good and teeming.
Then came two
gentlemen, staring;
Holy Books in
their hands, dangling;
Long gowns and
beard, donning;
The wheels in
Cafe now turning,
Faster than the
warplanes bombing.
A comrade with
his hate resolution,
Other with his
book, cutting passion;
Third is not
ready to leave any obsession;
all fought,
attacked and beat each creation;
With all
possible energy and vision.
With dark
around destroying,
Close connected
friends creating,
Disorder in
every nation spreading,
The
peace-loving unable to ferrying;
A toxic gust of
Holy and radical books.
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