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The Dove
He went towards the window he had a decision to make,
it had to be the right answer for his whole country's sake.
Should the fighting continue or should he sue for peace?
would his word alone make hostilities cease?
He was a great commander in battle revered by his men,
but he felt ill at ease in this political den.
The politicians were all gone,
he alone was left to carry on.
No one to argue, no one to persuade,
no one to be there, when the decision was made.
He stopped by the table to look at his dog,
an unconscious pat, his mind in a fog,
his loyal companion and long time friend
at least he would be there to the end.
The enemy were once friends and honourable men,
could they possibly be that way again?
Still he felt drawn to the window as if the bright light
might purify thought to give him insight.
His people were dying, perhaps it's too late
how many more, if he decided to wait?
He looked out the window into the square,
the people were gone left behind was despair
He looked once again to the brightness of day,
he cried for his people, he decided to pray.
His body wracked with pain he leaned on sill,
they had no equipment and where was the will?
Could he make this decision through anguish and fear?
he looked out once more, the answer was clear!
There by the window was a solitary dove,
the international symbol of peace and love. |
