We wage wars with words, Whetstone sharpened wit. Wounds win rounds of applause. A pause, While metaphors are mustered, Rusted dictionaries dusted, Cobwebs shed from unread shelves. Pikes of pronunciation Pick apart Portraits of ourselves. While poetry parries, Prose pivots, Prepares and rallies, Stares down violet valley below. The violence of lavender Shines like silver in the snow. A scent sentenced to silence, Flowers on death row.