Our world is a death face
That lighted the path for vulture’s feast

In our land are shattered skull of innocent heads
The throats of our dried streams
Is Yield with the fluids of their daggered oceans

Our world is a death smile
That Scented the grey flies
Woo the bald owls to the party of Broken virgins and ripen mothers
Whose dead bodies lies in red bed of the plumpless sand
Fondled by dust and sun

Our world is drunkard
From the tavern of bile blood
Lying naked in the trench of stenching horror and pongy terror
That needs our helping hand of peace

For the collective peace we’ll put together
Will yield the much desired peace we need in the world
Let every breath of our thoughts emanating from the tents of our hearts
Contain some molecules of peace
Let’s make peace the circumference
At which every thing revolve in our lives

let pierce the skin of our odium world with the spears of peace.

The Sun writer??