Poem about the heart's question: "Will we get back together or not?"

[youareworthy]

THE CIVIL WAR

 

 

The nation is rent asunder.

 

Truculent factions marshal their arguments against one another.

 

In one camp, the confident general maps her route relying on sheer gut.

She hoists the banner of your nigh and certain return

at the conclusion of your present engagements.

She refuses to negotiate with her challenger.

 

Across the battlefield encamps the anxious opponent.

She is chary to trust the cries of her heart,

for her troops sustained heavy casualties in the last conflict

when she heeded such advice.

She seeks to rely not on instinct but on intelligence-gathering.

Your final words convince her of your desertion.

 

The weary-limbed soldiers have seen pitched battle for days now.