My Poetry. War of the World.

Women, children, compelled to scrap for food
in desolate craters of ravaged land.
Waste ground stretches for miles, havoc everywhere;
this tragedy is spiraling out of hand.

Are we so willfully stupid that we crave war?
Why must we perpetually engage in this fight?
Weapons of mass destruction loom daily,
leaving no peace or harmony in sight.

Is our planet truly doomed to mass destruction
as the violent fighting never seems to end?
Every day brings us nearer the terrible hour
when every nation must openly defend.

Tyrants kill and refuse to see reason,
motivated only by greedy, selfish satisfaction,
while the innocent people die or live in fear—
societies must now demand decisive action.

Democracy has a duty to live and feed
on the unified voice of the people it represents,
or absolute chaos will consume every man
for the sake of the few content with dominance.

Will we ever see that long-promised fateful day
when the fractured world will finally be as one?
To wake each morning in a true, lasting harmony,
beneath the same bright, beautiful, unifying sun.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025