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A continuation to Shelly's "Rose leaves, when the rose is dead":

Peace, a time long overdue
gives to death its darkened hue;
war, a time long far from gone,
is what peace relies upon!

Feeling, when touch disappears,
stays with us through all our years;
life, a state yet unattained,
fell from bliss when last it rained.

But time, which we shall never know,
is the effervescent glow,
that brings down in storms all our tears,
even throughout our final years.

Make the moment and make it right,
up until the world's final night;
cease the anguish, remorse, and pain
and send the rain back to where it came.

Revolution:
a baby cries when it doesn't get what it needs, what it wants;
the dog barks
but all we can do is blow ourselves up,
and we still don't get what we want