All wars have come to an end…
And we are the final epilogue that begins a whole new story amidst the battered dogeared chapter,
An entire library of possibilities.
We are the brave springtime flowers that push past the detritus of the dying wasteland that it left,
Only to birth life and breathe verdancy once more.
We are the sole survivors, the carnage of the battlefield, the remaining number from the casualties,
That stood for the flag and for the fallen alike.
We are the careless children in a planetary playpen, playing with nuclear toys and metal guns,
And the parents that will fix the mess that their kin made.
We are the hopefuls who wish to end the endless cycles of self-destruction and to stop the madness,
Rallying resolutely for peace and for justice to reign.
We are the voices still singing, hands still reaching, faith still unwavering, hearts still beating, souls still calling,
Until all wars have come to an end.
…and we are the beginning.