Tiny petrified planet shaking in the undergrowth.
All life could be destroyed.
Ignoring the irony of wars that walked before.
Indiscriminate.
Petty bits of squabbling, soon turning into all out war.
Faces of crying infants bleed.
The war machine they continue to feed.
Sadly shallow.

Silent streets,
Cold retreats.
The buzzing bombs and calls to pray.
War is queer, nothing gained.
Oblivion has no answers for the necromancers and the poets.
The peaceful and the simple ones, no optimism left

Once upon a time a chalice,
Edged with hearts and flowers bust.
Sure and certain of destruction.
Blood lust.

Crimson blood, became jet black.
The mindless demons did attack.
The Russians and Americans,
Joint force in eerie unison.
Unison of misdemeanour,
England expected to do her bit as the world is turning sour.
Stop and think, respect our world.
These could become our Earth's final hours.
(C) LIVVI