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War, Hope and Love.

Rise up, engage, fight,
strategize.
Don’t take it lying down.
Creativity

can raise a middle finger
for all of you
when your hands are tied.

Images are bombs.
Words, weapons.

Still, be sure,
though to

toe the line whispering
subliminally, echoing,
etched in stone so deep
beneath the mire.

Ends forever
shaped by means…

Fighting flames with gasoline
only serves to feed the fire.
Please: serve yourself,
service us all, remember:

fear is the great immobilizer.
Death is just a fucking state of mind.
Hope, love: might sound hokey as fuck,
these ingredients for survival,

but they must survive alongside our war
with the rival or his end
isn’t really
and we might as well die.

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