Context Conquests

 The house stands in full view
and everyone wants a home.
Elegant fullness displayed
under its grand dome.

Every war is fought for love
and longing to be fulfilled.
The party splits and bites for conquest;
scrounging for weapons to impose will.

They rip and tear from context
all the nails to seek out eyes.
Glass is broken for daggers,
bricks to maces, lights to paralyze.

The shingles smooth the artillery,
made from water heaters and AC.
The war of pick and chooses
is forging waste and tragedy.

When all the meaning is pulled
and ripped away from the mouse,
a bitter shell of hatred smokes
with bodies that will never douse.

Now the home is blamed
for every misguided, bitter act.
No one can come home again
for the love has been fract'ed.