Sharpened sound waves rip through a red line
that extends protectively around the globe.
Colorless toxic gas seeps from crashed missile pods
newly buried into the cold center of a city,
and flows over a sleeping child.

His dark pupils begin to contract,
coiling tightly inside oceanic irises,
as his brain is overthrown
in a molecular coup.
Jurisdiction of his body is passed to his nerves,
already corrupted by the poison.

Exclamations of terror
and slurred components of sentences
begin spilling from his mouth.
He has no control
of his seizing limbs,
undulating, mindless muscles,
and helpless cries
that join the echoing mass of those already dead.

The boy lies
in the same place as thousands of others-
caught in the shadow of two opposing tides
whose clash invariably dooms those living beneath.