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"Fight of Kin"

Will we ever be at peace or will the war cries never cease?

someone has to take a stand, this I know we should demand.

who can ever reach the top? Will hatreds fire never stop?

For all we stain, we know remain, forever torn, the battles worn.

The blade claims all who make the call, but all who fight claims the right.

a shield of truth and sword of life, we all must use to face our strife.

Unbeknownst we still call, the shield was false so now we fall.

our swords now fight the very light and as blood of jesters we thus shall fester.

We must appease each other's will, or else become our righteous kill.

Was it candor or careless banter, that set the stages for all the ages?

Perhaps the thunder had torn asunder, the peace of mind that keeps us kind.

Whatever it may be, seeming thus to me, this grip of madness forsakes my sadness.

Were we born to face our scorn?

though actions thus reap, the fire we keep, as all our closest kin fought upon an ice so thin.

If we can ever be at peace, the war cries must be first to cease.

and so I close, still to feign, the peace that we have yet to gain.