First Edit: Why We Fight/Aging

[Richard]

First Edit:

Aging

The easy way is dying first, before
you tell your only love to come to bed.
The way she faded worse than any war;
no valiant charge, just words you left unsaid.

There isn't glory in becoming old,
instead there's pity faked by callow ones
who smirk at every story you have told;
too young to see you've handed them your guns.

You try to warn about the wasted days,
of how they'll never love a better friend...
Your minutes slowly march beyond her gaze,
their minutes cruelly seem to have no end.

So you'll recall that night you held her hand,
a time those youth pretend to understand.


Original:

Why We Fight

The easy way is dying first before
you tell your only love to come to bed
because to see her fade was worse than war,
the final battle words you left unsaid.

There isn't glory in becoming old
instead there's pity from the callow ones
who smirk at every story you have told,
too young to see you've handed them your guns.

You want to warn about the wasted days
of how they'll never love a better friend
the minutes marching pass so many ways
and dying after her the cruelest end.

But all you'll do is sneer and ponder why
you fought so hard to only watch her die.