I wrote this severeal years ago, when my life had been fundamentally altered in ways that could never be ammended.  For years, only one other person had read it.

The Pacifist

Pieces of places make the stage,

Places in time reveal the rage.

This is the story exposed to be,

What goes on here wasn't meant to be.

 

A lone soul marches his way to center,

Fighting this war not as the victor.

Rather for ways lost to him,

Fighting for the way she was to him.

 

The battle to return to the way he knows,

Is the battle to return to status quo.

For what is gone is lost from man,

What he needs most is love again.

 

This warrior cries the battle cry,

The stage is set for blood to fly.

The air turns red and rage sets in,

Flesh and bone and chaos begin.

 

The crowd is gone, there is no one to witness,

The tragedy that will end this novice,

Only I up here, in mezzanine,

Witness the sight of ravage scene.

 

I see the warrior losing the battle,

Helpless now, my mind to rattle.

I stand up and watch in terrored sweat,

What way to stop this man from death?

 

I shout to this man who's lost in war,

"What is it that you're fighting for?

What name do you pledge your life unto?

Why do you die when peace will do?"

 

"Fight all your life and watch it ruin!

Fight this fight that will do you in!

For the best is gone, you must face what hurts!

Do you think war makes truth divert?"

 

"See what is before your very being!

See that you have created this thing!

What will it take to make this right?

What course will you take to destroy this plight?"

 

"Not blood, not tears, not rage, not lie,

Can take from you the path you fly!

So look up here past stage and scene,

And see that I am no such fiend!"

 

"See that no one is here to judge,

That not a soul cares about your grudge!

So stop fighting what you cannot see!

And stop dying for the truth deceived!"

 

"It will be over in future days,

Just wait and see, there's no other way!

Let it go, do you hear me say?

Just let it go, there's no other way!"

 

The warrior paused not the least,

Fought with rage at thought of peace.

He killed one ghost in gruesome mess,

Continued fighting without rest.

 

His rage built now from my words of valor,

He turned to face his new-found anger,

And among the chaos of hunting ground,

He found a moment to bring me down.

 

His eyes looked up, I saw his face.

I shot back in sudden race.

For what I saw was not unfamiliar,

It was not a face of passing stranger.

 

The face was mine in future time,

A face so terrible, I wished not find.

A look so pale and beaten thin,

I could not stand what I knew within.

 

As I ran for the stairway, the voice I knew,

Said to me with voice so cruel,

"I fight for you, my past so clean,

Know this now, you foolish thing!"

 

"I die today to save your soul,

So that tomorrow you won't take the toll!

What I see, from way down here,

Is a blinded boy from long-gone year."

 

"So lecture me not this thing I do,

For the blood I spill to save from you!

Act now if you wish to see,

All those silly things you think will be."

 

"For night will fall before those dreams will arise,

And night is that thing that will destroy your eyes.

You see the future in me now,

You thought things would work out somehow."

 

"But I stand here in world of blood,

Knowing just what I wish you would.

So I tell you now that wisdom comes,

Not from the wishes, but from what's been done."

 

"Be the man that will not run,

You know this life is the only one.

You know what truth awaits you now,

So fight this war with me right now!"

 

"Pick up thy sword and let down thy shield,

Make your way onto this field!

This battle is not lost just yet,

For you come here to lay your bet."

 

"Don't just sit and watch this life,

Make it worthy with the knife!

For you see now what is to come,

If you live this life as distant one."

 

"I throw this weapon to you to raise,

Against the enemy beyond the haze!

So join me now, it's not yet done,

For future yet, this battle won!"

 

I look to stage of future ways,

I see now beyond the haze.

Not mist and dust, not dancing light,

But truth and hurt surround his plight.

 

I see the scar layed 'pon his chest,

I looked down upon my vest.

Red blood stained in violent fashion,

I knew it then was war of passion.

 

From the sheath, the sword I withdrew,

My name engraved, it's emblem I knew.

Dried blood on it's silver blade,

From his wretched scar that I had laid.

 

So I raised my sword in fierce salute,

He raised his fist without dispute.

I ran to the haze in a heated fury,

To save this warrior in all his glory.

 

For a moment in time I was not scared,

As I knew it then; I'd be prepared.

I fought beside my future that night,

I fought for what I knew was right.

 

He grew weak and I grew strong,

He fought despite his love was gone.

But the passion he had kept his fighting fierce,

Until the last wound had finally pierced.

 

I watched him die that night on stage,

He fell back before his age.

But I knew right then it was to be.

This fight I fight...

 

It is for me.