Weapons of War
There is so much poetry
Of love in the world
How is hate possible?
What if instead of bullets,
Guns fired scrolls —
scrolls of verse and poetry.
Wounding lines ripe with desire.
Victims shaken, undone,
Hearts breaking as they read.
Fighters bound with joy,
While basking in visions
Of paradises spent with lovers.
Consuming doses of chemistry.
And tears — hitched and choking.
Soldiers to weary from love to fight.
And, no doubt,
Occasionally,
paper cuts.
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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