366 Poems: March 29th, 2016

The Ultimate Weapon

We grew up in a world where fear was known

for an ultimate weapon kept in trust:

a power that could burn off skin and bone

and curse a city down to crumbling dust.


We kept it ’cause we thought we could be safe

in the strong metal shell of warfare’s bride.

To each good man and demon and a wraith

to hold back all the ones they held inside.


But safety was a lie we made to flee

all the lost battles we could only feel.

And I, in time’s broken arms, soon could see

that all we ever wanted was to heal.


Now the lost souls sing out, from stars above,

that the greatest weapon we have is love.



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