A Poem of Conflict and Resolution

Comp and Coop were opposites
Who found themselves one day,
Facing a dilemma
In which neither had a say.

The river that divided them
Had exhausted itself dry,
And both were forced to neutral ground
To bond, or compromise.

Now Neutral was a master
In conflict resolution,
And agreed to let them stay
If both made restitution.

This was inconceivable
For these two antipodes,
For neither could decipher
The other’s moral codes.

Isiac Comp was a man
Of very great ambition,
Believing himself most capable
When challenged in position.

He saw an obstacle as a chance
To take another step,
And defeat a winner’s game
When a fallen man still crept.

In gratitude to the Universe
For being an able man,
He challenged his adversaries
To devise a better plan.

Fear was not his enemy,
For this he boldly faced,
And whipped it into courage
Just to save it from disgrace.

If the man was all of this,
How could he be a puritan?
Only when Ollie Coop came near
And gently shook his hand.

Do not misconceive him—
Isiac welcomed every guest,
But Ollie’s beliefs were opposite;
He was a peaceful pest.

Ollie had no interest
In the challenge or the game,
He even agreed to disagree,
Without a hint of shame.

“We have to meet on middle ground
To set each other free.”
“How can this be possible?”
Said Comp with great disdain.

“When I cannot challenge you
To play in any game,
If you agree to disagree,
Then perhaps we should separate,

And neither man will ever know
What makes the other great.”

So the river that divided them
Had exhausted itself dry,
And both were forced to neutral ground
To bond, or compromise.

Ollie, an elegant, well-read man,
Possessed a calm and much-loved mien,
Graced with a harmonic nature,
The perfect man to rely on, serene.

The sun peeped out behind the clouds,
Awakened by the noise below,
Sprightly and brightly she rose on high,
Blinding the men with her glow.

She beamed her radiant heat on them,
Commanding all the show,
Then winked at waiting clouds above
To watch what they would know.

Her power poured upon the land,
Her golden fire grew stronger,
Until both men could stand no more
And battle pride no longer.

Helter-skelter, weak with thirst,
They searched for shade and shelter,
Their angry words now fading fast
Beneath the burning swelter.

They found a lone, weeping willow,
A canopy of shade,
And reached beneath its tired arms,
Dishevelled, worn, afraid.

But when they looked toward the river,
Their only source of relief,
They saw its bed lay cracked and bare,
A silent place of grief.

No water rose to quench their thirst,
No current ran between,
Only dust and hardened ground
Where life had once been seen.

Then something changed between the men,
No challenge could remain,
For pride is poor company
When the body aches with pain.

Comp reached out to steady Coop,
And Coop held Comp upright,
For neither man could make it through
The heat alone that night.

Arm in arm, they stood as one,
No longer locked in blame,
For keeping one another alive
Had changed the rules of the game.

Neutral saw them from afar,
Their stubbornness undone,
And sent a quiet request above
To clouds around the sun.

The sun smiled softly in the sky,
Her lesson now made clear,
Then winked once more at passing clouds
And drew the rainfall near.

The clouds released their silver tears,
The thirsty river filled,
And all the pride that stood between
Was softened, washed, and stilled.

Comp learned strength was not reduced
When another hand was near,
And Coop learned peace could still be brave
When standing firm through fear.

Together they had crossed the ground
Where neither wished to be,
And found within the middle place
A deeper victory.

For neither had to lose himself,
And neither had to reign,
Sometimes the greatest triumph is
When both have learned to gain.

And as the sunset crowned the sky,
Its colours rich and bright,
It proved that even endings
Can be beautiful in light.