There burns a war between two nations,
over the years, fueled by intimidation.
Prodding at the weak with no inclination,
other than to rid the world of their civilisation.
As metal falls from a clouded sky,
to strike the earth, all to 'beautify'.
Where they'll land, their flowers will bloom
tall pillars of dust in a crowded room.
Shell the strip to be stripped away,
by the will of leaders who hold the play.
Though the world isn't silent to a game so bland,
none in power rise to force their hand.
The sky is cracked by the scream of jets,
the children flee, but there's no place left.
Blinding lights distort the sky,
as phosphor falls and targets die.
When the roads are cleared and the job's half done,
the troops will enter with loaded guns.
Though there's nothing left, save for rubble and blood,
self defense is paramount, lest there's some left untouched.
A systematic sweep of any buildings half sound,
the fragmented homes of a now shattered town.
If any survivors, they'll be dragged away.
Whether children or elderly, they're all the same.
Forced to answer questions of things they know not,
then be cast in a cell and left there to rot.
A war is defined when both sides have the means,
To offend or defend against one another's machines.
A war this is not, for it's too far removed.
Here lives the devils oppression, genocide infused.
