As I sat on that high ridge to take a rest
during a lull in the fighting.
I had a front seat on a bleak image
thousands were dead.
Huge mushroom clouds were rising
how I was alive surprising!

Another bright blast hit the valley
then another flash!
Down the hill with a mighty force
injured facing the angry sky
Shocked at what I had seen and heard
in the news no hint no word!

No warning of a nuclear strike
rumbles of descent heard.
Conflict was just every day news
nations wanting to be free.
Sinister groups each rebel state
certainly wouldn't hesitate.

Struggling to stand moving forward
visibility down to a few feet.
Dim lights appeared just ahead.
it was a vehicle from my unit.
Safely picked up returned to base
seeking news of the human race!

Finding out it had been limited
to only a few countries.
The world would suffer for this deed
the destruction of life.
Nothing could be the same again
an act pointless and insane!

Since the mushroom clouds first came
everybody felt they were to blame.
Every nation had no choice but to unite
no more determination to fight!

Survival can only be achieved by working together!

The Foureyed Poet