World Without War

The lifeless bullets bound as captive predator in the restive barrels of the cold guns of war, chilling cold as the brutal shadow of death, waiting camouflaged in the dark, wake up at the strike of the trigger, pulled by the frenetic fingers of mad men. The bullets to accomplish the lethal mission, whiz in feral freedom on the wings of fire, carry the predatory quirky caprice of insane men’s geopolitical spite, and shoot off toward the fated targets, deliver the despotic message of murder. Let all the bullets stop midair, abandon their fatal flights of lunacy, refuse to become the cold blooded killers, stop and shed the facet of fanatic fury, fling the fatal intent in the free air and disappear from the world forever. Let the life they get from the forceful fire in the stillness of the deadly barrel, blossom into flowers in the arena of war. Let them entice instead the living to breathe in free will the fragrant air in the beautiful world of harmony. We listen to the mute voice of the fallen lives imploring our humane sensibility to stop the contrived conflicts of blatantly unwarranted horrendous human misery. Let the bullets lie as flowers in the graveyards of the peaceful world without war.