Too Late The Dove Understands Holy War

Mr. Bayonet,
one day he met,
Mr. Heart upon the plain.

Mr. Heart,
was torn apart
quite nearly sliced in twain.

Fiend Bayonet,
I do regret,
that you shall be my bane.

Pathetic Heart,
please do not start,
your mewling, I disdain.

Fool Bayonet
Oh, I'll win yet,
you see you have no brain.

Poor lost Heart
You're not so smart,
I do but it's insane!

Foul Bayonet
our fate's not set,
for you've no soul, 'tis plain!

Then Bayonet,
began to sweat,
began to show the strain.

But from poor Heart,
did ghost depart,
he sadly died in vain!

So Bayonet,
began to whet,
and resumed his mad campaign!

by Bob and Alex Eichen

Comments (1)

This is a powerful poem in what it says. Nicely done.