Eris

Why is it to this time born that peace should escape?

Plains once full of sweet lilies now wither unto disgrace.

Steadfast still am I with stinging eyes cast above.

Yet discord is sown against harmonies rule of love.

Words fall hurting unknown; striking of flesh; searing dry bone.

A dark chariots ride brings strife upon the reflections of home.

Ares sides Eris; vultures fly stealing; hope goes reeling.

Placid ponds rise on tempest roar, Eris cries peace no more.

The silence suffers the silence as a dreaming man sleeps.

Gentle comes his assurance midst times born to weep.

Eyes wide open; justice meted out by the furies stone.

Darkness soon to leave; peace cometh in the morning home.

J. Allen Wilson© 3/2008