Sorrow hastens the hearts lament For love and things once owned, As one is material to a great extent Yet both are almost always bemoaned. Long has man heartily undertaken The art of bloody vicious war And all too often love is forsaken, Just to settle a selfish score. On common ground would some agree, “That all’s fair in love and war,” But I beg to differ because it is plain to see: That love is what is needed more. History tells us of the battles fought Along with the many reasons why And even today, we are yet greatly distraught To know that many still fight and die. Oh would love be grand if it spread like plague Infecting all and humbling their ill will, Causing the dark hateful memories to fade: Forever crippling the urge to kill.