The Pen, The Sword

By Reid Laurence

If the pen is mightier

Then why is blood the ink of choice?

And why the fallen

Have no voice?

There are no words

Or lack of them

To fill the ranks

Of empty men

You must take stock of them

And then

Recall the day

Remember when

The pen was mightier

But then

The sword seems still

Embrace our will

And in the end

Prevailing still

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