a rhymed sonnet
I dream about my love, her name is “War.”
She’s exciting, she’s mean, she is glory.
She can be deadly; she can be a whore.
For some, she is a different story.
People travel from all over the world.
They dance with her until they die of love.
Bombs of fantastic light are full and swirled,
and affection is rained down from above.
She does not discriminate, but unfair,
Followed by her sisters: “Death” and “Despair.”
She has dazzling bones, and fire hair.
You cannot hide when it’s your time to share.
Mountain’s crumble, seas drain, forests will burn.
Trumpets of war are calling for your turn.
Andrew Mokwinski is a Political Science major at Marquette University, and a Staff Sargeant in the Army Reserves. He has deployed four times to countries like Cuba and Afghanistan. He spends his free time hanging out with his newborn “Reign”, which consists of changing diapers and sleeping!