Whether I'm Right Or whether I'm wrong,
Whichever side, I chose to belong,
The threat of nations,
Rattling sabers,
Keeping each other in place,
As deadlines near,
Is written, on every worried face,
The fear carried by the winds,
Is real,
As long as the threat lingers,
Behold!
He who sits on the pale horse,
Known as Grim,
Is prepared, to make his charge,
Onto the fields of the gallant,
Who chose to face each other,
He shall reap, without discretion,
Swinging, his blade in hand,
Reaping souls,
Like Glean sheaves in the fields.

By: William Bonilla......3/10/03

*****A Neutral Poem, For The World,
I Just Pray, God Will Make Our Choice*****