Battle

 

How’s it going to be

when you won’t believe

a word I say?

 

How’s it going to be

when you won’t hear

the tone in my voice?

 

Will you stay?

Will you go?

Will you put away those

childish things?

 

If you hear me,

if you see me,

if you understand.

 

Will you pretend it

never happened?

Will you ignore the

things you said?

 

Will your legs still

ache after walking in

my shoes?

 

Words are the warriors,

in this ceaseless battle of

ideas and feelings.  

 

A battlefield cluttered

with ideas and theories,

clashing across ideological

landscapes.

 

Words, jabbing and stabbing,

slicing and cutting,

with vitriolic hate lashed

with ignorance.

 

Ideas, dead on the ground,

shields glinting in the noon Sun,

as smoke tendrils of fire linger.

 

Can you imagine?

Can you see?

The power in poetry.

Did any side win?