Trees sway, gleaming bright; emeralds in the moon light.
Grass covers the earth keeping her mysteries out of sight,
Gravestones extend out of the darkness all around.
The clearing at this late hour whispers not a sound.

The bodies of those gone long ago, slumber
those been swallowed up by death's hunger.
The last war returned the world to its wild state
where all that remains are the evidences of people's hate.

But still there is some beauty to the monstrosity
a pristine, everlasting testament to our humanity.
A stark reminder of how things aught to be,
just a little too late. Why couldn't we see?