Two Swords for War

There are two kinds of swords.

One sword is wielded by a man.

He’s a warrior at war,

And when he comes home from the corps,

When he walks through the door,

His kids leap from the floor, to his legs, they soar.

Laughter echoes down the hall,

By his side, they fall asleep & curl into a ball.

He’s a shelter of peace, his wife feels safe.

She knows he’s dangerous, but not by hate.

Of her husband’s love, she is sure.

It’s his strength that allures.

The other sword is wielded by a tyrant.

He’s a monster at war,

And when he comes home from the corps,

His kids shudder in fear as he enters the door.

Alas, he beats his wife, he’s full of hate.

She’s terrified & doesn’t feel safe.

She’s paralyzed, like she’s locked in a cage,

He’s destructive, barbaric, & full of rage.

He provides no warmth,

He’s a fighter, but uncontrolled,

He’s hostile, detached, distant, & cold.

There are two kinds of swords,

And they’re both used for war.

One respects the war,

It seeks the peace.

Like an honorable knight,

It prefers not to fight,

It only hopes to do what is right.

The other lusts for war,

It thirsts for blood,

It craves the kill,

It desires death.

It knows no peace,

It’ll never stop or ever cease.

There are two kinds of swords,

Two swords for war.

Tyrants will come,

They will come for your door,

And they will come with a sword.

Hence, good men must carry,

They must carry a sword.