peace does not seem to be an option
in which one seeks a solution
weapons scale death
and are chalked up as a commodity

the paradox of victory
completely unconditional and calculated
remains before the archrival
who produces its will

an equilibrium is never an end
always balancing on the tipping point
the horror can only blind us
it shakes through the center of the heart

a blossoming monster
promises new strength to the one
the war as a feeling fires
life lacks the splendor of peace

its vibrating silence
is overpowered by the clamor of war war cries
it breaks the rod and the will
to be a balance