There’s a dichotomy in modern thought.
It’s something we hold onto
Until our fingers bleed and knuckles pale.
It makes us grit our teeth
And makes us scream and shout.
It moves us to fight amongst ourselves
And makes our smiles form straight lines.
It’s something our soldiers yearn for
Until they cross the threshold of sanctuary.
There’s a dichotomy in modern thought.
War is fought for peace.
