Why do men argue?
Why do they fight?
Is it ideology that sets them apart?
Pointing fingers at one another to prove each other wrong?
No.
Perhaps an answer to that question that has boggled the minds of men for so long,
has been right in front of them from the very beginning.
Fear is the biggest perpetrators of war and argument,
racism, hate, destruction.
And it is because of this fear that spouts the worst crimes in history,
the greatest atrocities of mankind.
Take for instance the armor of man,
the metaphoric clothing one puts on to shield himself from criticism,
from those who disagree.
And perhaps from the beginning of time man has sought to silence those who have disagreed with them.
The tyrannical majority who fear new ideas
or simply love their ideas too much.
But strip that armor, that fear, leaving behind just intellectuals.
Casting aside the weapons and tools of war for the briefest of moments
and maybe the wars and arguments will settle where truth will arise.
Perhaps.

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled,
was tricking the world he did not exist.
The greatest trick God ever pulled,
was tricking the world that he did.

At first I said we could never be
and things would never work out.
But little did I know,
that it wasn't that way at all.
It was because I was afraid,
afraid to lose someone else again.

They say that war is hell,
but surely it is not.
Because in war there are the children
and the younglings who've done no wrong.
And in hell there are the ******,
where the wicked men burn for all their sins.
Hell is where the guilty live,
war is where the innocents suffer.
Surely war is worse than hell.

I sat down and looked about,
at all the things I saw from my spot.
The tiniest details ingrained into memory
and position of the sunlight.
I remember the time,
I remember the smell, and taste.
But I don't know
if this will be the last time.
The last time I'm here ever again.

Describing how I normally do,
every fall the same.
When life gives out and trees wither,
shivering with the chilling air.
Shedding the forest of their clothes,
bare like a newborn, exposed.
Fall is a very unnerving time,
for I fear that Spring won't return.

It's sad that with age,
the less dreams we tend to have.
Many a night the older and tired sleep,
wishing for dreams to inpsire them,
just like years ago.