Another row and another
****** parting,
Hearts hard and yet
Crying inside,
Anger and passion compete
With yearning and sadness at loss,

We do not know,
You and I,
How to end or part,
And neither
It seems can we have
Harmony between us,

But that is what I want,
That is what you desire,
Even in the midst of war
We both say that
We tire of the fight,
And in not wanting that

We do actually agree,
We both want peace,
We both desire love,
We both yearn to fill
The same aching
****** void,

Well you fill mine,
And I fill yours,
At least we could if our
Rage would let us,
So here's a flag of truce,
Will you honour it?

Can we know that peace

We both

Desire

And

Need?

We've signed that truce a couple hundred times
Still step on the same couple thousand mines

Benevolence’s dry, therefore,
I look for your acts of violence.

Easier to face it had you carried a sword,
Not just a shield and your armour.

Truce became the deadliest of weapons.  

Turns out there is no blade sharper
than the white flag of a martyr.

Is this blood mine or yours?
I want to go home.
I don't know you, and I don't want us to die.
We both lay here, barely alive.

You look scared, a deer glowing faintly in the headlights of a rusty green vehicle.
I can see the tempest of my own fear reflected in your chocolate eyes.
Must we be enemies, only because our homelands are?

I see you finger something under your shirt.
It's probably a snapshot- mine is.
You keep it there to remind you of your promise:
Your oath to lay eyes on them again.

I know that we fight for our countries.
For what we believe to be right.
But...
Do you suppose...that only for tonight
--presumably the last night of our lives--
We could ignore the politics, and just fall asleep together?

In the morning, if either of us wakes up,
We can once again plummet into the ocean of duty and justice and pain.
We can drown in it then.
For now, could we take a swift breath at the top of the waves?
That would be nice.

Neither of us has said a word, but no matter.
Language barrier has not kept you from agreeing with me.
A simple series of countenances has signed our temporary truce in our place.
A mutual gaze of farewell,
As I drift...

Into...

Sleep...

I buried my shadow in a concrete grave
He came back to haunt me
I could not deal with the dark of night
But all of my light hid in the gloom
so my shadow re-entered the room
All the things I buried with him began to show
The blackest of times
So with him I entered a truce
That I would acknowledge him
But I said to him I'd never let him wholly loose...

I have declared a detente
After negotiating a truce.
My head is a no-fly zone;
The bombadier chutes stay shut.
I sat at the table
With my privy council,
And we have signed an accord.
Peace in my time.
Peace in my mind.
Forget, to forgive;
Forgive, to forget.
It seeps unmeasurable,
Infectious,
Air borne as a nucleur summer.