The Eyes
Weary and forlorn,
He stared over the lands—war-torn
By the thousand years
It has seen the fallen tears
Of the mourner's right.
But by morning light,
All that harmed and hated
With be disarmed and abated
Falsely, by coercion
To hide the devastation.
But only the knowing
Will not give to the deception they are sowing.
They will not believe their lies,
As the only truth they have is their eyes.
The eyes, like thick glass
Will take much more to let things pass.
Mirrors cannot be deceived
Nor can memories be relieved.
The land holds its memories,
Never to release
Its grasp on those lost
Because of those who see no cost.