Afghan: A Voice From Heaven Poem

The pitches from a hinterland,
A faint hearted rug woman heralds.
To give the warmth to all nursing babies,
Bindingin her luggage her calm stories.

In her air flows her craving heart,
Her bones of peace sing at Herat.
She torches love and rekindle humanity,
In her calm chest that bears her beauty.

Now see her poppy eating baby looks,
His innocent eyes shed like brook.
His shackled mother could not save his fun,
She wants a hug for a rug but gets a gun.

Unstable her stables to stable her state,
Peace in her veins is about to rake.
For those few has buried the land ,
She awaits the day all hug her sand.