Tolstoy wrote of war and of peace
And Plato’s Republic of a perfect society.
But I, living here,
on a world outside literations and the power of the pen
know more of war than peace,
and of a society that is in pieces and far from perfect
as we gorge on liberties.
You’ve heard it said, “Freedom is never free,”
and a pacifist’s claim never held its own on the sea,
where storms rage, and Poseidon wields his power.
So it is for the warrior, who knows nothing of peace,
that all he is will burn up bright
and cost the greatest thing.
If blood runs fiercely hot,
and the power hungry unsated bleed,
then war is as oft the outcome
as for those who wait for peace.
Both sides, a folly
And neither saving life;
life finds no difference between the gunman
Or the activist who shouts silently by.
Both give way to evil
And both, in the end, shall die.
No Comments