The prise of war
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Poem:		42175
I watch: The world dissolve, Her men destroy one another, The fires of war burn, The world consumed by the hate of Man. I hear: The silence of a world, The aftermath of the war, The agonized cries of my loved ones, That will call my name no more. I smell: The metallic scent of blood, Death carried on a wind, The smoldering buildings of our world, Death that winds itself through our once lush lands. I feel: The bone chilling draft, Death’s cold shroud constricting around me, The heat of war eating my world, As the world I once knew crumbles to the ground. I taste: The dust-laden breeze, The stagnant flavored air, The air heavy with the taste of blood and sweat, The legacy of Men who died. The air: It grows now to be stagnant, The air is now so thin, Made dry by the fires of war, No longer shall we feel her coolest breeze. The water: Is blackened by the oil, Is muddied by our tracks, Is poisoned by our blood, No longer shall we taste her freshest streams. Our mother: Her skin is now in ashes, She lies now in crumbles, For Man has destroyed her beauty, Oh the foolishness of war. Though now the war is done, And the fighting has now ceased, The world lays now in shame, For the death than Man has caused.
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