peace poem

Think not lies grip the noble deed
the waken man does fight
for truth, for life, for love, for creed
not evil born at night.
Think not the blind that praise the beast
sweet is the lure of lust
spreading its bane from west to east
and hoards none but dust
In the stillness of peace they come
consciences that now awake
Strains heard by heart and home
the pipes of peace do make
The blood that binds both love and light
sink through the darkening ground
but amid the term of human night
the pipes of kindness sound