A world plunges into chaos
as world leaders with worldly
egos make decisions
based on what?
Because these small men cannot
fight their battles among themselves
they send children to **** children
and for what?
They drop bombs, the
Mother Of All Bombs
to collapse tunnels on
Mothers' sons.
Who authorized this?
With nuclear tensions rising
in a sea of ships
invading a country's personal space,
while the drums of war
beat with fervor
and the blood pounds in these
leaders' ears,
and the people that elected them
just sit back in fear,
as if they're watching
World War III
live and in color in a crowded
and dark theatre.
These men all think they
are on the right side of history,
and they are showing,
flexing,
their country's muscle,
they think to back down is
a display of weakness,
but it is the monks of the world,
the meek of the Earth,
which will outlast them all.
They think they can justify the
killing and slaughter of others,
but what happens if you flip it?
Would you not militarize as
a regular human as well
should your homeland be invaded?
How can we blame these people?
Is it too much to hope for
that we lay down these arms
and not destroy ourselves?
There is no you,
there is no me,
we do not **** others,
we only **** ourselves.
There is only us,
and we are all in this together.

Sometimes I look at the old photographs
Pressed between worn out pages
Of times I do not remember,
For the times I keep guarded
I keep no mark of.
So I stare at that little girl
Whose eyes are same as mine
And has seen the same wars as I,
Because the damage was done
When I was a kid.
From then to now
The wars have ceased,
That little girl has seen too much for her age
Than now I ever will.
I wonder when I look at her face,
I fail to connect
That's how I stay away from people.
I wonder if she thought of the future ahead
How her strength then would let her live?
If she knew why she continued to fight ,
If she ever had any hope at all,
Or she thought she couldn't simply die?
Because all I can think now
Is ending it here.
I have hope, I really do
But I look at her decades back
And I don't see the point.
She was so scared, all the time
She had her walls so high
She, the moment she understood
Spent her time wishing to save others.
Her life contained days
That belonged to everyone around,
Her fight thereupon easier.
I guess the problem ensued
When she started to have her own.
I look at her, I look at her
She doesn't look anything like me,
I don't feel anything at all
But pain.
I want to tell her
That is all she will ever feel,
That pain she thought would go away
Would bury itself in her soul
And she will never feel alive again.
I never really recognize her by her looks
It's always how she makes me feel,
I stare at her
And the sadness has remained,
The fear still lines up
And happiness for some people
Is a momentary event
That simply intensifies the pain.

I look for you in everyone.
Because I don't want to get hurt anymore.
Yes, I look for you in everyone.
So no one else can do, what you did to me.
If someday I run into you, don't expect me to say sorry for speaking up.
Don't expect a hug, because you don't deserve feeling my warmth.
Don't expect me to listen to you, when you try to tell me, that you did nothing.
I don't want you to even admit you did anything, because I know what happened.
I don't need anything from you, leave me alone.
Please, don't look for me, don't knock on my door.
Please, don't reach out.
The only thing you need to know is that I'm doing fine without you.
The only thing you need to know is that you did not keep me down.
The only thing you will find, is a different girl.
A girl who doesn't let people do what you did.
You have taken enough from me.
No, I don't forgive you.

Where does hierarchy begin?
    Is it where the strong is on top,
and the weak step upon?

Where does your dignity be placed?
   Is it where your always be the winner,
no matter what, even it has bitter taste.

Is SURVIVAL really that cruel?
That some of us are just a tool,
a fool for the strong to be cool.

No, it can't be that bad
yet reality is quite sad.

Despite our hard beginnings
Life still is beautiful
that losing isn't everything.

Dignity is placed -
where you respect yourself the most
and Hierarchy isn't important
to where your love is...

© Pax

We were both fools in love,
only at a different pace,
another time, and
unlike souls.


*(k.p.)

Why do nice people end in life’s rat race, last?
A thrown out contents into the cold soul’s dump?
Hence, becoming a forgotten and recycled soul
In which those who cast such out, did not remember of the light In them, until the cost has been cast?
Why is a bright future so much of a Horder’s dream in which they can corrupt and or steal such soul’s energies, for their greed?
Take such a warning.
You , the hoarder shall drown in despair’s ocean ,once your guilt has never been needed.
Drown if you must, in such intoxications.
For your end will always be the cost of the lust for the brighter.
Their legends shall live , forever, as fighters.
For ,as the much stronger and brighter beings ,shall laugh at your new infatuation.
We learn, ever so quickly, those false actors of “the nice.”
As our cold and knowing states, of how you took our Conrad’s in the greedful , shall never get a listen. As our ears-closed, when they were living and bright, as our eyes glare shall freeze your fuel and sick soul’s to solid,freezing ice.