The Dance of War
Sounds of screams
Rains of bullets,
Beat explosive percussions
For the demon of war.
Heads of men
At the hem of her skirt,
Sweep floors of blood
On the shambles of earth.
Peace’s wings clipped
And clutched to her hands
Has her eyes dancing
As fast as her feet.
Why must one stall her?
Peace never shall be free
Until we kill the demon
Lurking within us each.
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