Her Name Is

HER NAME IS

her name is war,
and she has earthworm hair,
a cadaver's smile,
a tat that says beware.
many have embraced her,
thinking they were in control,
but she goes her own way,
she has no soul.
she recruits her lovers,
from the army of the living,
old men to lead,
the young to be willing.
in her arms rest the heroic,
in her promise rest the fools,
in her dream rest the quiet,
all is still,
all is cool.