There is a war that is taking place,
A monster that has finally taken a face,
They will fight and when it rehashes,
They will fight more, just to rule the ashes,

A battle that marks another stanza,
A death that marks another extravaganza,
One man shall fall, and another shall rise,
Where they shall brawl, and fill the air with cries,

And we shall set the stage for our sons and daughters,
As we command our pawns to slaughter,
All those who dare stand in our way,
In this game of fools play,

Where brother will fight brother,
Father will fight father,
Son will fight daughter,
What will become of our granddaughters,

And only the dead have seen the end of their personal hell,
And only those who are alive will stand to see it through,
And if you strike me down, I will only rise again,
And if you break me down, I will only stand again,

And I learned that if you desire peace,
You must be forever prepared for war,
For one will only cease,
If the other is never implored,

And i’m amazed because we were taught,
An eye for an eye, even if the whole world goes blind,
At least we can say that we fought,

Even if we were left behind..

Life is an imprecise language

What love-letters?
an anachronism they have become
text or speak over Face-time
never mind if sterile amorous words is the outcome

What nips in a bud is novelty
Unconventional, perturbed
What skyrockets is conservatism
Stimulated by critical dissent
What inconsequentially bursts out
Is then societal haemorrhage and paralysis..

It's all just numbers, isn't it?
Day by day,
Year by year,
Always counting.

Day by day look at the number on the scales.
Let the caloric calculator count until your head is filled with numbers.

Minute by minute count the seconds it takes for him to text you back.
Let the doubt and fear multiply until your head is full of him.

Term by term let a percentage on a piece of paper define your worth.

Don't we have better things to do than count?