No more war.... Just one forsaken door.. Can we stop asking for more..?? Just be satisfied with what we've all, always, fought for... -- The peace away from the war.. The bliss of what we all believe love was made for.. --- But look around— We built a thousand doors because we were afraid someone else might walk through ours. Put locks on our hearts, flags on our scars, names on the stars— then argued over who they belonged to. Funny... Nobody ever asked the stars. --- Balance knocking at the door... knock... knock... knock... And everybody goes quiet. Because what if it isn't another enemy outside? What if it's us? Every mother who stayed awake. Every father who didn't know what to say. Every child who learned our anger before they learned our names. Every stranger we've passed carrying a whole damn universe we never stopped to see. All standing there— asking the simplest question: Are we done yet? --- Will there be another war.. Or will existence shift again?? Will there be an electric explosion?.. Or will we all... Learn to live and love again.. --- Maybe the explosion isn't another bomb. Maybe it's a billion people finally dropping what they've been carrying. CLANG. Pride hits the floor. CLANG. Hatred beside it. CLANG. Every ancient reason we inherited for hurting somebody we've never even met. And suddenly— there's room at the table. --- So pull up a chair. Yeah, you. Bring your scars. Bring your gods. Bring your doubts. Bring the language I don't understand. Bring that ridiculous laugh. Bring Grandma's recipe. Bring the song your father played. Bring the photograph you refuse to throw away. Bring everything that proves you were here. I'll bring mine. Maybe that's enough. Maybe peace was never supposed to mean becoming the same. Maybe peace is finally becoming different without becoming enemies. --- No more war.... Just one forsaken door.. Can we stop asking for more..?? Just be satisfied with what we've all, always, fought for... The peace away from the war.. The bliss of what we all believe love was made for.. --- And balance keeps knocking. Not like thunder anymore. More like a heartbeat. knock. Yours. knock. Mine. knock. Theirs. Until billions of separate rhythms accidentally become music. And somebody starts singing. Someone else joins. Then somebody who swore they'd never sing again. --- Will there be another war..? Maybe. We're human. We get scared. We get greedy. We misunderstand. We break things we love trying desperately not to lose them. But we're human... We also rebuild. We forgive. We plant gardens where somebody once dug trenches. We make babies laugh in houses where people once cried. We turn wreckage into tables. And somehow— after everything— we still fall in love. --- So if existence shifts again... let it shift toward us. If electricity fills the sky... let it be every light coming back on. If something has to explode... let it be the ridiculous idea that somebody has to lose for somebody else to win. --- Balance knocking at the door... knock... knock... Well? We've spent thousands of years asking what's on the other side. Maybe tonight— we finally open it. Not as nations. Not as enemies. Not as winners standing over losers. Just tired, stubborn, beautifully unfinished people looking at one another like we're seeing each other for the first time. --- No more war.... No more asking for more. Just everything we've always fought for— sitting quietly between us, waiting to be chosen. Peace. Love. Enough. --- Will there be another war..? Or will existence shift again?? Will there be an electric explosion?.. Or will we all... learn to live... and love... again? knock. Open the door.
