Both life and death cannot destroy
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us or force us to shed a tear
despite our lives' vanishing joy;
can conflict's spite dissolve what's dear
to our worn souls and make us coy
about a dream that's nearly here?
We—victors!—who live for fresh hope
and make peace in the face of strife;
together, we survive and cope
and fight and war as if no life
is too vain even in the scope
of death at the edge of a knife.
It would be easier to die
than to quit—to quit and not give
ourselves the means of knowing why
we sacrifice and must survive
than let success just pass us by
and lose the chance to live and thrive.
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."