Torn to Bits

There isn’t much horror to peace.
If you’re lucky, life carries on,

And you’ll never be traumatized
Too much by what happens or what

Happens to you, and you’ll lose youth
And love and loved ones, but slowly,

As the bodies around you age
Intact, not one blown to pieces

In front of you, not one cut down
By violence, no children killed.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the point
Where the only horror you’ve seen

Is that, even wholly at peace,
Perhaps especially at peace,

A person will detach from flesh
To vanish into wilderness,

The body going on intact,
The person never coming back.

You’ll witness how awareness splits
Before the body hosting it
Can quite give up on hosting it.