Who is washed in streams of blood
His bare hands may diffuse a bomb
Who is sent to quench live bomb
With bare hand to grasp his death
Who is sent to steal from fund
For military guns and gears
Who has been sliced across the throat
Who has been stripped and tied on trees
Who has been soaked in fuel and burnt
Who has been starved and left to die
Who has been washed in widows tears
Who has been washed in orphans spilled blood
Who has been washed in the blood of our borders
Who has been cleansed in the blood of his brother
Peace, perfect peace
In this dark world of sins