The man needs something to oppose.
If not, he slips into repose.
And soon destroys himself so fine,
With make believe and words unkind.
The man’s fame is a state of war.
That’s how he grew to something more.
The fights, battles and resistance,
Are the keys to his existence.
But there’s real war and then there’s fake.
Which would a better man do make?
They all could perish in the real.
The fake affects just how they feel.
In a world of less consequence,
And false senses of confidence,
And far less responsibility,
There’s so much more hostility.
The fake worlds always have a war.
The real world has few anymore.
Perhaps real wars are more revealing.
With blood and death and also feeling.
And with such grave ramifications.
They’re more loving in their relations.
© 2021 TheRememberings Ltd.