Not My Line Mother!

We have been in this floating race,
our peaceful conflict.
A competitive race of amity,
of unity, though in diversity of direction.
Floating with struggle for the shore,
with harmless weapon of who will first be there.

All of a sudden you came,
and disapprove good will,
prejudiced on the future unknown,
being biased against one of two flying birds.
Just of the high-fly of the eagle,
you charged the dove of laziness,
you castigated and deprived its birth right,
that you gave to the eagle.

The dove retain a calm creature,
Its silence seem to irritate you.
You came up with a fierce threaten,
You demand its change of track on the race,
and possession of wings like the eagle.

It seems touching a raw nerve to the dove,
It showed you the fight against nature in that
It protest still in silence,
but you didn’t quit.
“Wait and let see what the future have”
“the future you blamed unseen”.
Continued the dove,
"changing my track you aim,
but it wouldn’t give my name a fame.
Blame me of an ill-result end
And not now at the middle of the race..