Peace is like sun,
Strife is like rain,
You have sun,
Then the rain comes,
And washes it away.

like walking by a river
singing in the rain
sitting by the lake
having perfect peace

Clutched into the hands of a warrior,
Is a sharp sword,
Working into the mind of a demon,
Is the longing to be lord,
Seeping into the heart of a man,
Is the wanting of wealth, looks, and fame,
Implanted into the soul of a poet,
Is a hope that their next poem wont be lame.