Peace Is What Remains

Peace is what remains After the warriors are exhausted: Therefore peace is born in flames and fumes? Amidst torn bodies? Amidst an arm here, a foot there? Is that the genesis of Peace? Our rationality, the ship of our rationality Can travel green tempests. It fails yet oftentimes To course on the flat sea-breast We humans are forced to Peace And therefore say that we love Peace: We love what we are forced to Or because Our biology so dictates: For when biology dictates the fumes of war Very little rationality remains In the time-glass of the brain And Peace becomes a wish, a sigh, a word.