WA#3: First Draft

Under a spreading chestnut tree,

Where the sun always shines

And the birds always sing

With insurmountable joy,

Lies a treasure.

Surrounding the spreading chestnut tree

Is a village.

The villagers know of this treasure,

And know of its powers,

And would defend it to the death.

So the day inevitably arrives

When the villagers must defend.

They were few,

And soon lost to the opponents,

Who carried greed on their backs,

Hate in their eyes,

And war in their weapons.

With every last villager killed,

The opponents dug beneath the chestnut tree

And found the chest of treasure.

Upon opening it,

However,

The chest merely revealed three words:

“Peace on Earth.”

Puzzled, they looked out onto the village,

The destroyed village,

And wondered.

Why had the villagers,

Believers of peace,

Fought back?

Why?

Because they had fought for peace.

They had fought for each other.

They had fought for their opponents.

They had fought for the sun that always shines,

And the birds that always sing.

They had fought for this moment,

When the opponents would look out,

Their eyes sweeping the dead village,

This village reminiscent of war,

And see the peace that lay within it.

The peace that whispered,

Ever so softly,

And ever so lovingly,

To the dead:

“Thank you.”

And to the living:

“Redeem yourselves.

Live through me.

For them.

Forever.”