It barrels through constructions
So ancient and still,
And powders granite,
And clips bonds of steel.
From powerful chests
Rips men's hearts.

Yet it bends no blade of grass
Nor stirs a woman's locke.
Beginning in a flower
Or a friendship dear.
Dwells in brooks
And walks in fields.

War sometimes follows
Close at hand.
Millions fall
For it's possession.
Warping till it is not.
Wasteful.

Within lies the Power of Creation.
Without lies the desert.
It has no purpose.
It is the goal.
For without
Life is nought.                         /)ark Poet [AssaulT] '93
