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talking to myself

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Bitter fruit

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markdohle

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Sirens wail,

Children scream,

People run for cover,

Looking fearfully into the sky,

Naked before death,

That rains from the heavens.

Hearts that love, also hate,

Kind people turned into killers,

Love of family, and country,

Belief in ones faith,

Leads to hatred of those outside the circle.

For the aggressors

No one is innocent in time of war,

The key to ending of killing, and hatred,

Is the knowledge,

Hard to accept,

That when looking into the enemies eyes,

It is ones own reflection that is seen.

The seeds of love, and hatred,

Each with their own garden,

The other considered a weed

That needs to be rooted out;

They cannot co-exist in the same ground,

Only one can flourish

Hatred is the strongest,

Easier to cultivate,

Nurture and let grow,

Though bitter fruit its harvest

It nourishes the heart,

Strengthens for battle.

So the wheel turns.

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