When Discourse Ends, Violence Begins  

When discourse ends, violence begins—  
Not with thunder, but with whispers thin.  
The table cleared, the chairs pushed back,  
No words remain to bridge the crack.  

The ink runs dry, the scrolls are torn,  
The olive branch replaced with scorn.  
A silence sharp as shattered glass,  
Where reason fades and shadows pass.  

Steel speaks loud where voices failed,  
And truth is bound, its tongue impaled.  
The fire that once warmed the room  
Now feeds the forge of coming doom.  

But even in the ash and dust,  
Where swords have ruled and laws combust,  
A single voice, a trembling thread,  
Can stitch the wounds where hope has bled.  

So let the pen not yield to blade,  
Let courage speak though peace has frayed.  
For every war that silence wins  
Was born the day discourse ends.