Taste of Victory

“Choose your weapon” she said,

And so the pacifist and the activist paced twenty,

Turned and took aim.

“But how can I destroy

One who I am obligated to protect?”

The pacifist asked.

“Grow a pair!”

The activist replied.

“Now take aim.”

"If I win it will be said I am a brute”

He closed his eyes,

Taking aim at the Sun.

“If you loose

It will be said you were bested by a girl.”

She said, they fired.

“Either way I loose”

He gasped as a dove fell beside him.

Together they lay dying.

“Who will care for my vines”

He gasped.

“The grapes are my life's work.”

“They taste bitter”

She said spitting back at him,

“Dove killer!”