Lovers’ Quarrel

We had to use 8 words. This is my second poem with this same prompt.

The uprising started quickly,
without warning or preamble:
she yelled for the ancestors
and he called on his gods;
they breached borders
and revisited old scars;
they attempted erasure of past battles
but neither would concede or yield;
they fired words like bullets
to fracture skin and bone,
to splinter belief and conviction,
spilling blood and shattering trust—
they would break each other.
There would be no ceasefire;
but one would surrender
(however unwillingly)
and return to their corner.
Tomorrow, a truce,
but peace will remain elusive:
they littered the battlefield with guilt-mines and booby traps of lies,
and one careless misstep
will ignite the battle anew.