Peace

Peace is beautiful .
Decorated with flowers she tears the eaves of the sea.
She sings to the stars which wash her.
She dances on the rocks wearing a white dress.
She balances on the threads of hope and smiles at the abyss without any fear.
She looks at the people who have put out the lanterns of Bastille singing that we won. But did we really win?

Icy gazes and creepy minds try to process what they have seen.
Make peace, they command. No violence.
But I think I want the violence.

Looking at those children who cry, observing their footsteps which drip hope and their gazes which sink in sorrow and pain, I’ am sure I want violence.

Peace is a nice word even though we have never seen it. As long as some people plant bombs, let children being slaughtered on the stands and try to convince us that we are free, I don’t see any peace.
What about you?

Peace, written with p,e,a,c,e. We have seen it written in the children kidnapping, in persecution, alienation, fascism, bombs, explosives, woods, blood, pain, grief and beatings to the immigrants.

They give me violence but I am not afraid of it anymore.
Because I have seen my homeland selling me and I have seen other homelands selling their own children.
I have seen the shop windows and what’s behind them.
So how come do you ask me to be by your side?

Peace is beautiful, dancing in white but the milk that she holds is red.