And all the acts of bloody war
Are played out in my mind –
The endless trails of purple gore,
The death of humankind,
The women raped by either side,
The children scarred and maimed
And all the leaders’ foolish pride
When they should be ashamed.
And yet my mind’s as much a stage
To scenes of gentle peace;
I’m witness to a golden age
When war’s been caused to cease.
And so I live from day to day
As but an actor in a play.
Photo by Barry Weatherall on Unsplash
