Peace is what remains
After the warriors are exhausted:
Therefore peace is born in flames and fumes?
Amidst torn bodies?
Amidst an arm here, a foot there?
Is that the genesis of Peace?
Our rationality, the ship of our rationality
Can travel green tempests.
It fails yet oftentimes
To course on the flat sea-breast
We humans are forced to Peace
And therefore say that we love Peace:
We love what we are forced to
Our biology so dictates:
For when biology dictates the fumes of war
Very little rationality remains
In the time-glass of the brain
And Peace becomes a wish, a sigh, a word.