The fighting man who fires hatred
Through his borrowed mouth,
And, drowned in the ecstasy of faith,
Plays with death in his beguiled eyes,
Has forgotten his unguided childhood
When the sun rose in his head,
Rose gardens bloomed in his heart,
And nightingales perched on his fingers
To learn their songs.
To make him remember
That Life is always Beautiful,
That Truth is Beauty,
That Truth is the Faith of Man,
You only need
A gentle, awakening word,
Not a blind, revengeful bullet.
Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.