Peace in my nest is presented to the world as stupendously unique.
But within the four squared corners of my home, peace is apparently oblique.
The plight within my pretty heart to withness peace continues to burn.
Castles are built in the air all around the universe about how peace in my city can never turn.
That peace that they boast of, I can't even see.
Perhaps, this peace I know is only abundant beneath the sea.

We are told to wear garment of peace while we bleed in cold blood.
When souls of my own species are murdered within my kingdom,
When the beak of parrots can no longer speak, you call this peace?
If you can boldly swear behind peace, then, let there be a thorough referendum,
When my people all around will prove you wrong and put your guilty conscience at ease.

I'm speaking with a captivated beak and seeing with blind eyes in deaf ears.
My life is now dreadfully catastrophic in the hands of my foes.
But until my last breath is seized by my maker,
I'll never be tranquilized in my journey of preaching perfect peace and not captivated peace in pieces.

© Jay Lit