The word cracks once,
“Ceasefire!”
A fish bone lodges in a gasping throat
but below, the fuses sputter: more wire, more fire,
the relentless drums of war’s dark choir.
“Ceasefire!”
– a child’s chalk-drawn heart,
fading on a smoke-choked boulevard.
The sniper reloads to the lullaby’s lie,
innocence fades, and children die.
“Ceasefire!”
says the treaty ink,
still wet, and bleeding into the desert sand.
The general’s watch ticks, a relentless drone,
overrun, smashed upon the bloodied stone.
“Ceasefire!”
a mother’s whisper,
stitched into a flak-vest’s hollow glow.
The drone’s low hum, a discordant hymn,
targeted through the night’s darkened brim.
“Ceasefire!”
carves the chaplain’s tongue,
while the armoury turns its key.
Counting shells like rosaries, again,
the earth remembers its red, relentless stain.
On the evening news once more,
“Ceasefire!”
a graphic, three seconds, soon buried in mirth.
The bomb dreams of a birthday’s cheer,
while peace remains distant and fragile here.
But let the untouched voices rise,
through the static and blustering press.
Not for victory,
but the peace we desire,
– “Ceasefire.”
Shared with dVerse Poetics – imperative and GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 8:
use a simple phrase repeatedly, and then make statements that invert or contradict that phrase.
Current events made this too easy!

