The Commander

We are truly and already fighting a war The war within each of our hearts As the organ where love is felt beats its drum On its orders, do we march forth?

Or has hate entered your barracks And taken command? Does it rule with violence and threats? Does it judge the lives of others, in superiority? Does it cast out the parts of you which undermine its stolen authority?

No babes were born with evil in their hearts Only love and trust lived there, until we learned fear. Who then secured you? And what feeling was it with which they armed you?

Love or hate?

Surely we all find dissent Those feelings that betray our good nature To whom, we say: "I know why you exist. So that I should choose. You may be contagious. You may find shelter in others. But you will never rule my heart."

Outside each of us, a pendulum swings history The turnarounds are hard Inside each of us, a commander.