Born of ardor,
Such, that it warns.
Our fate it was,
With hurt, on our arms.

With due hearts,
And feet sinking in lows.
What lay hidden,
Somewhere violently rose.

Though we carved,
Our circles with yarns,
In will we threw,
Still love from our arms.

And a little too soon,
To nature’s alarm.
A world it built,
With arm in arm.

Tragedies borne.
and enemies disarmed,
A wave had hit,
That could not be calmed.

Countless then stood,
Facing in swarms,
And fate it was,
With hate, written on arms.
In silence now lay,
The gravest of foes,
As we fight our greed,
With all man knows.
Oh, once a heaven,
We’ve put under spell.
And what lay in future
We can not foretell.


2 thoughts on “Arms

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