by Mark Antony Rossi
Violence was never about power. I could care less about control. Rather it was the saddest of understandings that force played a role in righting wrongs.
Evil usually weighs words on truer scales and calls out results. This test of intention is older than recorded time. In perilous moments best wishes need better weapons and the will to engage.
Bloodstains are judicial ink for those who seek to write the honest price of peace. It may involve soiling a soul to send iniquity back to the nether regions. But Hell has room for another.
A creed is built and pins valor on physical response. The pursuit of good requires curse words over campfire homily. The disciples of darkness demand a vicious answer. The sword should not be feared but used less for bravado than breaking bread.
Tender hearts believe peace is a blessing. Yet those of us thick in the battle know peace is only found on the other side of war. And like all precious prizes, its presence challenges the value of sacrifice and the substance of victory.
About the Author:
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