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I had a dream last night,
by the morning the hope was gone.
The sun burned away my dream,
that the world could live in peace.

Sick and tired of all this talk,
this talk of war and fatal weapons.
Peace is not a word, but a five letter story of false hope,
into which our lives are cast by iron fisted fools with no remorse.

Blood will stain God's once green earth,
bomber planes will fill these once blue skies.
Corpses will crowd these little streets,
and nothing will really change in the end.

Lightning will strike the heart of the land,
why must guns and bombs do the talking?
To bury so many innocent to get to so few,
say a prayer for the sake of this world.
Has God lost his faith in everything below?
Or have we no option but to destroy this land?

This poem is Copyright © steven_fenton123