You speak to me of non-violence,
You speak to me of peace,
You speak to me of utopia,
Do you truly think it is?

How many lives have we lived,
How many millennia gone,
How many wars and battles old,
What changes undergone?

Where go the dreams shredded,
Where hopes mauled lie,
Where nostalgia withers,
What makes hearts die?

There is a place for violence
In the heart of seeds,
A breaking forth, a tearing,
A rupture that bleeds-

And then emerges a newness,
A life is born in pain,
A raw, tender shoot struggles
To find a name again…