Renegades

run rampant

on fluid currents

between warring factions

when morality is malleable

and today’s enemy

is yesterday’s brother

 

Priorities

shift suddenly

like wind-blown leaves

dead and dying in the late November night

when confusion is expected

and today’s mission

is no longer yesterday’s decree

 

Catastrophe

builds slowly

like a tsunami wave

that conceals the destructive power beneath the surface

when years of fighting become habit

and today’s battle

is not connected to yesterday’s dètente

 

Peace

is possible

like bright sunshine

on a cold March day

that begins with a single ray bursting through overcast skies

when each soldier lays down his weapon

and today’s truce

is a small part of tomorrow’s future