There is so much poetry Of love in the world, How is hate possible? What if instead of bullets, Guns fired scrolls — scrolls of verse and poetry. Wounding lines ripe with desire. Victims shaken, undone, Hearts breaking as they read. Fighters bound with joy, While basking in visions Of paradises spent with lovers. Consuming doses of chemistry. And tears — hitched and choking. Soldiers to weary from love to fight. And, no doubt, Occasionally, paper cuts.