On War

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War,
The necessary evil of the world,
We send our brothers and fathers to fight,
But for what?
Surely not the downfall of a nation,
Or the death of innocents.
But is that not what war implies?

Peace,
It is an illusion.
While our leaders wield their pens in one hand,
And smile at their foe across from them,
Under this table of compromise,
The other hand waits patiently.
Waits to strike.
For until all countries crumble,
And only when one nation stands,
Will the false sense of peace and security envelope the people.

But it is only temporary.
For peace is only an illusion.
The nation will turn on itself.
Over and over it will split,
Until only one man is left.
And he will look over the planes of war,
And at the destruction of civilization,
And at the corpses of those killed at the hand of their neighbors,
And he will weep,
For only now will man realize the error of his ways.





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