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Let us exchange the verbiage of war for the adjectives of peace...   Let us all take up the chalice of brotherhood and unite a broken world. For peace to exist humanity need only recognize the futility of war ... to, decide that peace is the better course; one where our children can engage the world without fear. A world at peace doesn't abide in 'poverty', nor does it suffer the burden of orphans, naked and starving in its cities. A world at peace finds a way to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and house the indigent... it has plenty and willingly shares it with the needy.

Let us choose the vibrant colors of life over the worn and gray palette of war and poverty... Let us set aside our personal bias and ethnic hatred for a better canvas...  Let us apply the brush strokes of liberty from the majestic pallet of peace, to imbue humanity's canvas with a new paradigm,... A paradigm where every manner of tongue and nation, of customs and ideology embrace the common hope of peace in our time.

Is it so difficult to set aside personal bias... too, forgive the past, as we set out a new canvas... a canvas, that guarantees all people, nations, and religious orders liberty and a common law that ensures peace for all? It seems only logical to choose life and peace, over war and death.   Let every nation, tongue, and creed put aside the bias of the unrighteous and eat no more the fruit of the warmonger

I have seen it rain fire from heaven ... I have held the broken bodies of the fallen and heard the bark of the cannons pronounce the death knell for the fallen in the name of peace... I have walked in the sodden fields of the dead, in the rivers of blood, and caught a glimpse of sorrow's face... as I looked out, over fields of the dead... Those whose only hope now rests in the Hands of Grace... God's Grace.  What price did sorrow pay for a better day, only to be betrayed by the cadence of the drummer's call to a new war...  I listen closer and hear the far cry of the just lay dying on the field of honor... Only, to ask: What honor is there in dying... for the dead?

War is a curse... let us dream no more of fields aflame... with the rage of fools.  Let us not look upon the memorials to the fallen...  but to our better angels... for the Dead care not what the living think.... they only know they feel not, the pride of life, nor the joy of their children singing by the water's edge... or see them dancing on summer's prairies.