Wage not war, on those you love,

            Disarm your words, ungird your armor.

Do not battle your heart’s desire,

            For with it may come, defeat

In times of trial, emotions rampant,

            Let not slanders be used as weapon,

Blunt, harsh thoughts all fears allay,

            That again, in peace, spirits may meet.

For in our folly, if anger win,

            Our future soon unvarying victims

Betray the pain, rejoice the spirit,

Deny in passing, no sorrows to greet.

Pledge resolve you possess the power,

            Unite your thoughts, your prayers, and honor

For in you rests, once thought dormant,

            A stronger tomorrow, anger’s fate bittersweet.

A choice was made in heat of moment,

            Thought innocent for sure.

No planning done beforehand,

            Was wisdom in need of cure?

As would happen, mistake was made,

            Chance swiftly played part,

What started as childish prank

            Resulted with broken heart.   

Be not fool to think it wrong,

            But prankster took a chance,

Keen for thrill, no thought of others,

            Did do the Devil’s dance.

Now scars prevail where love once reigned,

            Mementos of what could have been.

For had choice been wise, instead of rash,

            Perhaps none would have waded in.

Now fools have lost, their value decayed,

            Love’s promises vanished like summer snow.

To challenge the fates in search of pleasure,

Brought sweet justice in Karma’s fatal blow.

“Nothing is terrible except fear itself.” [1]

            Wise words from the past,

                        Spoken in truth,  dread to dissolve.

Languish not in swamp of anxiety,

            Mind heavy laden, heart downcast,

                        What power possessed may resolve!

For what emotion, force so strong,

            Could endure fear’s onslaught, remain steadfast

                        Sanction the mind, inner strength to evolve.

Make your fears the enemy of themselves,

            Set course of spirit, new realms explore,

                        Free of fear, all sins atoned, now absolve.

[1] Sir Francis Bacon 1561-1626

Hate, what an awful emotion,

            Energy wasted most often by devotion.

Hate is a crutch made of thin paper,

            Supporting at most offensive vapor.

Hate is not revenge,

            Nor form of amends.

Hate is a fire, long smoldering within,

            Awaiting release against one thought in sin.

Hate is a cancer, eating ones soul,

            It gnaws at all logic while losing control.

Hate is no friend, nor enemy of foe,

            It is vender of pain and bringer of woe.

Hate defied if spirit at rest,

            No longer burden, emotional test.

Hate brings no pleasure,

            Despite all one’s hopes, it is no treasure.

Hate is your enemy, never your friend.

            By-pass all hate, let love transcend.

No masochist was I born,

            That pain be craved lest I die.

But life enduring,

            Experiences incurring,

                        No choices always have I.

The pain of heart, not inherent to suborn,

            Weighs heavily in face of lie.

For spirit to revive,

            Heart must contrive,

                        To defeat pain and survive.

Let those who would harm,

            With behaviors so cruel,

Wallow in false glory,

Their pleasures just story,

  Denied by moral bounty.

Rejoice in triumph, heart pain soon disarm,

            For no yesterday be today a rebirth.

Tempt not the fates, sorrow be bought,

            Let revenge be not sought,

                        Ere all come to naught.