Love after war

War.
Guns blaze.
fire scorching
the heat of democracy
and the desires of
freedom desperate
souls.
battles
wage.
in streets
behind cascading stones
while drones
fly over head
searching
with electronic eyes
for an enemy.
Innocence
loses
its way
as the young get younger
pick up swords
instead of plays and
I have to wonder
can there ever be
love after war.
Will the season
of our discontent
making life to suffer
unrelent
-ing horrors of
our mistakes
ever be redeemed
in the waking
forgetfulness
of morning?
Will the
blood on our hands
the impression of death
stamped into the sand
of our march
ever fade?

Will rich men in
high towers
ever stop laying
waste
to poor men
with elongating hours
will the
other reverse course
and demand discourse?
can we ever meet in the middle
can we
ever
find
love after war.

Every day the news
paper dreams in smoke
lay plain the drama of the day
Men dragged from homes
Women stripped and shorn
Children’s hands bound
with the weapons of
war
de constructing truth
de constructing lives
and
all I want to do is
hold my hand to my head
close my eyes
reading no more
because
I’m not so sure
its possible to
have
love after war.

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