Pray for victory

“You won’t ever be satisfied will you?” She said. Not asked, but said.
How could he be with a world riven by hate and inequality?
“Not till the wall comes down” he replied.
She sighed.
While she hung out the washing to dry in the sunshine, he watched lives drain from barbed wire lines in the shadow of the wall.
Unstoppable force met immoveable object – and was stopped.

Until the pick axe, sledge hammer beat of the dance brought the wall down under happy feet.
And the shadows lifted.
And the washing hung no more.
Immoveable object met unstoppable force – love – and was moved.
And they danced till dawn.
Till many dawns in many towns, and no one thought of washing days.

Or being gunned down.


Behind ferrous blinds, old memories in old minds grew. They started to brew.
And the washing machines where brought out of the sheds, slumbering nightmares were dragged from their beds.
Once more, children were not sleeping but dead. In the streets. In the parks. Under rubble in their beds.

Unstoppable force?
Immoveable object?
Pray for victory.
Let not love lose

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