Fight

For rights and slights,
Fights ensue.
To quell other’s mights,
More fights ensue.
But, while the world’s
Busy setting fires,
There are those
Whose fights turn dire.
Of the world, of the day,
The gloom that won’t stay away,
Time and again, they tire.

Succeed!
What doth thou speak of?
I know no success,
In a weeping world.
I know no euphoria
Amongst bleeding hands.
The day we each
Be the other’s saving grace,
The time when
No fight’s insurmountable,
Shall I laud this world
For its success.