How does one hold death’s violent promise in one’s heart?
How does one embrace the good wars and disregard the killing?
Where in the human soul does this reside?
Sanity is lost in its gory flood where concern is given up in fear and rage.
What are we to do in this dilution of reason?
Are we not cycling, again-and-again, killing its primitive pulse?
Forgetting the innocence of the other heart’s beating?
How do we stop others from standing in the same place, opposite?
How do we seize the ones who would carry the sword and stop their breeding in tyranny’s DNA pool?
How do we amputate the hand of violence and fill empty hearts with goodwill, with Love’s meaning?