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.