THE PRICE OF ALL THINGS
Kurt F. Svatek
Tears of love glisten like pearls.
but somehow it seems to be futile,
to try to breathe sense into
something
that has become senseless long ago,
since the real dove of peace
thinks of itself last of all.
And even there is someone
who can make his dreams come true,
there’s always another one dying.
This seems to be the price.