A boy came here asking what peace is,
So I searched through the pain,
To the end of my wrinkly, old brain,
But in all the folds and creases, I found only
Broken pieces.
Then I thought back to what peace was,
I recalled a thousand years,
a thousand smiles, one million tears,
And in searching for what keeps us, I recalled
The face that frees us.
A man that wanted what was priceless,
A long-lost trace of hope,
A man hung by law's tight ropes,
For treading over the grotesque, forms the need
We all must confess.
The need to reform these chipped, cold pieces,
For death at first sight,
Topples any warrior's might,
And to awake to see this crisis, is to know what
Broken peace is.
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