Out on the horizon red mans vision of destruction,
the flowers continue to grow in the field, the bees hum,
some of one, many of few, wars in construction.
All over a world, the war machine produces to defend,  
angels peer down from heaven then close their windows,
some nations seek peace, a patch to mend.

Bodies stacked, heads laid out, one finger pointing,
in the park children running, continuing to play,
souls flash aura with no light glow of gloom death anointing.
Defenders of justice scene, so goes the blind a war made,
across town the streets are full, a sunny day with no care,
in the last ground of flowers up solemn faces, totality laid.

A blue sky above looking down on a face on its back,
the animals play amongst, not knowing whats below,
a mother, a child, a relative who hears a report of attack.
What if better minds prevailed, cooler heads did dominate,
the stream still flows cool and refreshing, a place to ponder,
wars being fought and soldiers die, peace subordinate.

G