The Winds of War

When war and conflict cease to be,
And the world no longer runs red;
I will rest my head upon your knee,
And dream away these words in my head:

The Winds of War blow foul and fetid,
Never whispering the songs of life;
Screaming only what is sad and morbid,
Stabbing faith in the heart like a knife.

One hand reaching for another hand,
Reaching for another, without pause,
Can prevent another damnable wasteland,
Left dead and barren by eternal chaos.

Let the dreams of peace finally prevail,
The dreams of those awake and asleep;
And though many tried, and many failed,
They slowed the Winds of War's steady sweep.

At the end of my dream everyone agrees
That our days no longer seem strange;
And as I raise my head from your knee
At last, I awaken to the Winds of Change.

Lora Frikken ~ 3-15-03