The War is Over

We played Poetry Poker in my Creative Writing class, and this is what became of it.

A withered stranger

Looking through the window at a delirious light

At immortal glory

Prowl around the hate

Immerse yourself in hope

Stranger, forget your weary past

Forget your hidden war

Remember that dawn is to come

Honor the deaths, the people

But lose the memories in that mournful stream

Remember that silver stream

Cast in death, take out birth

Beautiful, beautiful birth

Bask in the new and glorious glow

Feel the tide push and pull your heart

Crave not that dreadful, war-torn forest

Listen to the waves and follow the light

Look not to those sinful cliffs

Be withered and tangled no more

Be part of that vast gleam you seek

Be what you so want to be

Vigorously fling away the hate

The black gunpowder

The aroma of the suffocating smoke

Paint yourself a bright, new picture

Without hurt

Without pain