What rests us
Are the ties of blood and selfish familiarity.
Those that speak our tongue and drink our water.
Nothing is larger than Life.
Fear is a funny thing, it defends
And depends upon our own indifference.
Why should we be spared? In my name, too,
the bombs are thrown. Elsewhere though.
On the second day of spring,
The darkness creeps higher,
In the name of a foreign God. Feigned.
For hate is homegrown.
We pay our collateral damages,
As the bulbs wake. After all,
Death comes everyday.
There is no glory beyond this world.