peace

i tire of the day that's filled with hate
that tears at the soul of mankind's fate
weeping in the moment of a deadly state
aware of every malevolent slate
mourning the bloodshed of violence innate
praying for peace too late
too late

i die a little in a daily dirge
i witness the potent malfeasant surge
the call for death delivered at the urge
of the warmongering moronic call to purge
the evil of misunderstood forsaken curse
driven by the strings of the purse
the purse

i cry for all in dire repose
to reach for another embracing those
whose pained existence for calamity arose
to strike at what insecurity exposed
as vile ungodly threats composed
of wealth that greed sows
that greed sows

i strive to lay my soul in peace
to live in love with all who lease
breath from the source of life's release
longing to hold in arms of love i reach
to them that my calm would breach
in longing hope for peace to teach
for peace to teach

© 2007 BY W. GARY FORRESTER