Instead of Sorrow

Everything doesn't have to be a sword.

Tamer times,

softer times,

call for no weapons to even come aboard.

Peace,

instead of sorrow—

let it smile

and reach into tomorrow.

Guns and knives and a wicked machete,

missiles and bombs

once rained down like so much confetti.

Now, let those weapons rest—

but not on graves.

Let them be buried
beneath the waves.