~ Sand ~

The shifting sands of time
are passing us by,
Leaving us behind
to wonder why,
And so confused
we turn and fight,
For that which we
Believe is right.
Good people die
and blood is shed,
Why are we fighting
it's widely said.
But others say
war must be fought,
For this is what
thier parents taught.
One day my kids
open up that door,
To a hell that
we call war.
As a tear streaks
down my face,
I see us weak
as an entire race.
Alas, hope returns
that come what may,
We will stop fighting
wars one day.
Then we will shake
another's hand,
As war is burried
in time's sand.