Within I feel compassion
for the life that we profane
without I had to fashion
a defense I could sustain
and somewhere in the marrow
is a killing ground I fear
a line that's razor narrow
but where mercy is held dear
regardless of the malice
that gets mustered in the troops
I'll never hold the palace
when the enemy regroups
reconnaissance is futile
if there's nothing left to hide
but who becomes more brutal:
a pawn of fear or pride?
Are You Reading Me?
2 comments:
Oh, but why must it take us so long to learn these things?
We must become seasoned vets before we acknowledge the futility of battle, so nice to see you my friend B-)
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