::::
the essence of a life,
Is burnt at both ends,
When you start a war,
the death of you human self is started,
And the birthing of a generation of hate has started.
When you kill another to change the fate of others,
Does one not die in one self?
Does your soul count for nothing?
If it is right to kill one to save hundreds,
then the life you have chosen is worth nothing.
When you kill to change the fate of others,
you change the fate of not only you,
But for every single person on this planet.
All wars have a tone,
A musical note that vibrates through out our history,
Some hear it better than the rest and some,
get to be the ones that decide the crescendo,
The finale, the beginning, these are the ones,
That forever are the notes of our woeful story,
That is our state of mind.
when one marches into battle what does one listen to?
You do not listen to Mozart, not pop, rock or hip hop.
You listen for the one thing you will never get after a war.
Silence.
To say that war is a end that justify your means,
That justice is truly blind,
War is a state of mind, it is a fiction of ones imagination,
It is a word which holds no boundaries a word without borders.
When you hear the word war,
Think not of when or where,
Think not of who, why and how.
When you hear the drums of war beating
Beating at you door.
Think only of time,
and the moments when you heard silence
Poetry by Christoffer Waye
Read 553 times
Written on 2006-10-11 at 13:20
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When you heard silence..
Define war?the essence of a life,
Is burnt at both ends,
When you start a war,
the death of you human self is started,
And the birthing of a generation of hate has started.
When you kill another to change the fate of others,
Does one not die in one self?
Does your soul count for nothing?
If it is right to kill one to save hundreds,
then the life you have chosen is worth nothing.
When you kill to change the fate of others,
you change the fate of not only you,
But for every single person on this planet.
All wars have a tone,
A musical note that vibrates through out our history,
Some hear it better than the rest and some,
get to be the ones that decide the crescendo,
The finale, the beginning, these are the ones,
That forever are the notes of our woeful story,
That is our state of mind.
when one marches into battle what does one listen to?
You do not listen to Mozart, not pop, rock or hip hop.
You listen for the one thing you will never get after a war.
Silence.
To say that war is a end that justify your means,
That justice is truly blind,
War is a state of mind, it is a fiction of ones imagination,
It is a word which holds no boundaries a word without borders.
When you hear the word war,
Think not of when or where,
Think not of who, why and how.
When you hear the drums of war beating
Beating at you door.
Think only of time,
and the moments when you heard silence
Poetry by Christoffer Waye
Read 553 times
Written on 2006-10-11 at 13:20
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
