Some chase the clash where tempers flare,

Drawn to the fire, the fight, the dare.

While others mend what war has torn,

With hands that soothe, not blades that scorn.

Why would one seek revenge?

To balance pain they cannot unbend.

Why would one want to tend?

To cradle pain and help it end.

One feeds fire, one calms the flame.

One seeks to punish, one to reclaim.

One finds others to blame,

Another lifts the lost by name.

Through ages past, the tales retold,

In every war, in streets grown cold.

You walk the edge, bring peace or pain,

And leave behind a scar or stain.