All quiet at the front,
where fractious redress inspires peace,
yet contentious affront cannot be released,
and oppression the scent of disharmony’s ease,
wafts ominously through the air.
For no matter the quest, the intentions invest,
disharmony quells all hope in silence,
and in reason state a peaceful mediate,
to acquire the sum of advantage null,
and a hearts rest from anguish.
Life surely needs respite,
from the endless harm and spite,
grounded in contrary belief and choice,
where no-one has but a single voice
to challenge the status quo.
Aren’t we tired of all the quarrels,
this lack of acceptance and morals,
gleaned from cultures sacrosanct in view,
yet blood the venting of beliefs askew,
and no solution left in sight.
I am ill from all the bloodshed,
the wanton waste of life, valueless in death,
and how easily we adhere to the insanity,
hatred led to qualify our actions,
dissolve our heart’s retraction.
And the killing goes on regardless,
women, children, for no more than reaction,
and how cold these hearts that placate compassion,
as evil accepted and no words just action,
to rid the world of those opposed.
How lost people become,
taught death an accepted outcome,
and pleasure they to die for cause,
regardless their dreams like Santa Clause,
illusion’s finest work.
And as they sit at heaven’s gate, no virgin’s in site,
pay penance for their misguided waste,
and weakness minds of hate and spite,
bring them to their final sad demise,
no procession or hero compromise, just everlasting death.