words

this is an expression of nature,
this word, ‘war’,
it is a necessary catharsis
through which all things expel
the waste product of power and being,
the shedding of hope and fear
and the removal of those
who can not adequately adhere
to this principle.

this is necessary,
this word, ‘war’,
it must be maintained
and cultivated, perfected,
the antiquated parts hacked off
and buried to appease the universe,
to burn a bond in to the fabric
of everything, to sacrifice,
this is necessity, this is purpose.

this is what wakes men from sleep,
this word, ‘war’,
it is the organism behind
that which we see with our eyes
and all conflicts here
are but parts of the greater war without,
that one which envelopes all,
a blade of grass struggling
against the wind is at war
and is as noble a warrior as ever there was,
for he has found this moment in the universe
that will stand alone as inherently his,
this moment, apart from all moments,
this moment is the one that gives light
to all others.

this is the way of things,
this word, ‘war’,
our lives are always taking place
against the backdrop of war
and it is from this play of light and shadow
that we are to pull from existence
the parts needed to remain within it,
alive, burning, killing, consuming,
expounding upon the very conflicts
taking place in our hearts
and pouring them out on to the earth
in whatever form is most efficient,
this is the notion of being,
this is the purpose of dying,
this is the way of things,
this word, ‘war’.

-S.C. Martinez