If outbursts of strife went up in rainbow smoke

Would war then become beautiful?

Would broken limbs fly like confetti,

Dismembered hands soaring,

Holding peace signs.

Would tears stream down smile-battered faces?

 

A nuclear explosion that reverberated

Wiped out agony

Killed bigotry and poisoned

The Infant of Hate

 

Thousands of soldiers spanned out across a horizon

Pointing finger guns that unraveled into

Outstretched hands

Rather than bullets

Rather than pain

Rather than death

If bombs went up in great turquoise

And guns shot out candy bullets

Spilling blood of red wine

Would the end be bitter or sweet?

 

Emily Pritykin is a sophomore majoring in Cinematography at the School of Visual Arts. She grew up in Brooklyn, where she spent her time exploring different mediums such as fine art and writing.