Peace

Such a strange word it is

Pieces of which we are given

During various stages

Of our lives

For the full image

We have to fight

Quite ironic, it is

But isn’t life too like that?

We live to die

This word though

It’s meaning

People argue over

‘It is this’

Says one

‘It is that’

Says another

They fight

First with words

Then with weapon

More deadly

And they go on fighting

Not realizing

Each fight

Each battle

Each war

Drains this word

This created idea

This seemingly nonexistent condition

And yet we seek

Under rock after rock

Through ocean after ocean

Beyond sky after sky

And finally we find it

At the end of the race

When epiphany ends

Sansara’s never ending game

When realization dawns

And life ceases to be