The Night Battle

Raging,
I detect a form in the moonlight.
Is it my friend or foe?
It appears, in the obscurity,
to be of the opposing throng.
I fear
and thrust my sword deep and hard.
My bloodied brother, eyes clouding, looks up.
His face, illuminated by the neutral luna,
wears confusion and sadness
from the injury I inflicted.
Why do I fight and injure and kill
when my vision is so limited?
How well do I know the soul
of my friend
or my foe?
Is it best to shun the violence
and trust freedom and love?
My vision is obscured.
The judgment must wait.
I will love the “other” and trust freedom.

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