To clip the wings of beauty will bring woe upon a land
Immersed in tribal conflicts round a convoluted maze,
Which leaves no space to feel a way to weave a stronger strand
So somewhere someone's mind can find a force of fifty ways.

The conflagration grows across the Bedouin's domain
Where desert heat can beat the soul and take it from a man.
No matter what the tolerance that man may have to pain
New leadership must now present to all a peaceful plan.

But cultural traditions run like blood within their veins,
As Islam is their way to God, it is their way of life,
And peace upon the desert is as rare as desert rains
That come and go before the heart can measure all its strife.

So gather all religions that believe in God above
And nonbelievers of the East who practice living peace;
Then meld all contradictions to a hand that wears One glove
To share once more the lack of war where hatreds all must cease.

And to the great democracy so young in years I say,
Take caution as your God and guide until the peace is won.
Suppress the language of your joy upon each dawning day
So words will not offend your foe and foul the sacred sun.