Even One

Communion with god,
A call to war,
Death to the infidel,
Suffering for the faithless.

The human condition,
Looking for meaning in a blank book,
Never to turn back a page,
As this book grows.

All not made public,
It rots,
The lights extinguished,
No longer a bastion of hope.

A dark room,
Devoid of stimuli,
Wick-less candles,
No flame for light.

Crystal tears fall,
Like snowflakes,
Wasted concern,
Eternal sleep,
Eternal peace.

You awaken,
A clamor consumes,
Your peace,
Endless souls to grab arms,
A generation in peril.

These shelves overflow,
The creatures of the mind,
Desecrating sacred peace,
Lies pervaded by the dead.

Fire consumes,
The darkness,
Leaden hail,
Cuts tethers short,
The dearly departed,
To blood soaked tragedy.

Man knows no peace,
Death his only reprieve,
This dance done,
Even alone,
For if one man lives,
Who carries this condition,
We will always know war.

`Dakota Toney

Dakota Toney

I mainly write poetry or commentaries about the human condition or philosophical ideas. Please visit and follow my blog for more writings at exploringtheparadox.wordpress.com

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