A Pacifist's Creed
I wrote this to explain my personal opinion on the matter. If you wish to put this on a page I would be honored by the gesture and overjoyed at my message's spreading. If you have comments, (and I know many will) mail me at abraxas@writeme.com
, but don't bother writing to say I'm afraid of dying. I've heard it all. ~Brax
You call me coward, but I don't mind,
Though I don't hold any fear.
I won't kill for you, I won't fight for you.
I am human, then pacifist, then American.
I choose peace over war, yet not of fear,
You can do what you will, it bothers me not
You may fine me, jail me, and slay me,
But the blood will all be mine.
To have blood on my face I am a martyr,
To have blood on my hands I am a murderor.
Never would I slay my greatest of foes,
Yet I must to those I don't quarrel.
When I was younger I killed one's spirit
And it came back to me in my mourning,
Now I have grown to love everything,
Yet now I am to kill those I call my brothers.
Not for love and not for justice,
But for the rich and for the mighty, who are for that richer.
A soldier kills in battle, to protect.
A soldier fights, but at a cost:
The soldier becomes an animal.
The pacifist battles for peace, at any cost.
The pacifist fights, and at a cost:
The pacifist gives his life to protect.
And we do just that.
We don't protect a person,
And we don't protect a nation,
We protect the world from itself
We are scattered and small in numbers,
But unceasingly our hearts ring out,
Until out hearts, like the thundering bell,
Lie still within our breast.
We fight in waking and fight as we sleep,
To warn the world, to defend our keep,
Not with swords, but words of peace,
And walls not stone, but all human beasts,
To shed my blood and bear my all,
A silent pacifist in heart and call.
No fear do I bear of death or war.
One fear in my heart lingers much more.
No form of peace does war create,
It's the fatal flaw that seals our fate.
Junkies
Should I hate the junkie,
With heroin in his veins,
Those women, men, and children,
Who kill themselves to stay sane?
They live a life of ecstasy...
Life within the glass-walled syringe.
They touch the sky then hurt endlessly...
Death within the glass-walled syringe.
They feel what few have earned in life...
Life within the glass-walled syringe.
They pay for this prison with lasting strife...
Death within the glass-walled syringe.
Then should I pity the junkie,
With heroin in his veins,
Those women, men, and children,
Who kill themselves for a fools game?
They live their life by chosen way...
A prison of glass that's stronger than steel.
They commit their deed and earn their pay...
A prison of glass entered by free will.
They weak willed fall in the foolish snare...
A prison of glass that's stronger than steel.
They take lifetime penanance as is most fair...
A prison of glass entered by free will.
Blood and heroin, the fatal burning team.
But pity, though earned their never being clean.
I love my friend and love my foe,
I cannot hate who did not know.
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So if you wish to use my poem, partially or in its entirety, remember Abraxas wrote it.
