Waving armaments like a flexing muscle,
Parading hatred before vanquished, empty faces;
Never knowing an enemy so valiant --
Nor more oppressive or restless --
Than the one within his breast. Warrior.
Trampling fields of green,
Sullying the fertile flowing pastures
Of ripening, waving grain with the bloodied
Hobnail boot of a grandiose warrior,
Conquering the fears of his own heart.
Blue of sky, replaces by herbicides.
Light, effervescent gases pour forth from man-made clouds.
Once particles of matter, once life --
Now atomized; now dead and gone.
The product of a gentle heart?
The restive, sublime quiet of gentility
Now shattered by the roar of machinations run wild --
Oppressive silence remains. No love. No hate.
No hope. Oh, warrior!
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Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:47:55 EDT