War is over. Not once does history ever say how well the war turned out. It’s always the same, the conqueror only seems to win. War is over. Every generation has a few fools who forget we’re done killing each other and make a mess that everyone else has to clean up. War is over. Most governments are nothing more than money-and-weapon machines, gunned-up gadgets desperate to deploy and take what’s not theirs. War is over. Across the way, fingers point, voices whisper, children are made to hide. They’ll come for you, too, ashes and dust, vengeance doesn’t care who you are. War is over. The right to fight is not the right to murder, life here is a dream. Wake up, I am not your enemy just because we disagree. Here we are being born to die and arguing about forever. War is over. More bombs bring more fire, more smoke, more hurt and more unimaginable grief all over again, scattering more bones, tissue and blood, oozing more love. War is over. War is over. War is over. Say it again until it stops. War is over.
