War is
only man's invention
Carrots,
sticks and spears are but strength
Broken
noses, hollow eyes, headless bodies
Amputated
arms, cloaked in carved clay
The rest
lies under the stone sarcophagus
Selfishly
suffocating in its own silent glory
Thousands
of years past, why are we still trapped?
Strength
is not power, in the end it stands alone
Power is
the art to persuade
To create
peace, to appreciate simplicity
Like:
A baby's
plum cheeks, juicy and round
A peach
colored petal, fragile but free
An orange
tree, fruitful with possibilities
A balance
of bodies, in imperfect harmony
A family,
a country, builds itself up
by the
continuation of its generation
Not
necessarily by feats or by fame
For those
leave empty legacies
That
unless lost, are learned, relearned, but unlived
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