Bombs of desolation.

As I walk along the streets of desolation.
The tumble weeds roll, while flicking dust into the wind.
I follow the tracks of so many before.
Come to see the mark, the foolishness of man, made so deep.
Another crater made for all, the works of selfish men.
Another crater made, to pave the way for selfish plans.
So many lives lost, on ground now so bare of life.
Once flourishing with movents.
There is no rest in its repose.

No place for graves, its been; swept clean.
To devils, own it, fits the scene.

Poor souls we've lost.
Through selfish ways.
Good souls we gain.
When wisdom stays.

The bomb, so many so close, its there.
Used once the masses are prepared.

Beware Beware!
The red button gleams.
Draws attention; to the power of destruction.
A form of death, so bitter; to those who taste of it.
Yet so sweet; to those who cause its bitterness.

We wonder at their folly.
How through the lies, they seem; so jolly.
Never knowing what they slay.
They slay the life, the love, the way.