The War

The war begins,
Blame and bullets spray.
Both sides broken, dying and still convinced of their righteous cause.
The martyrs cry "STOP!" from their graves, but no one hears their calls
The angry mob shields itself with the poor and the desolate- a shield of disposable lives.

The war continues fueled by the dropping of bombs and propaganda.

A light shines
A child walks into the fray-
Shot down.
To whom does he belong?

More children enter the field of battle, followed by their bleeding mothers.
They stand amidst the battle
They ask "Why?"
Everyone has an answer,a finger to point.
They are raging, burning for vengeance.

The war does not cease,
But the beloved walk toward the guns of their killers
Some fall, but some reach their targets.
They hold the faces creased with hatred and the cracks begin to show.

And now it is up to us
Will we drop our weapons?
Will we join the innocent and wash our bloody hands?




"There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear."