The weapons of war grow in power and speed.
The minds of men cannot keep pace.
They make life and death decisions.
Man is powerless in the face of his creations.

I’ll be glad when the men choose life.
If only their weapons were museum pieces.
Perhaps these steel arrows will begin to rust.
Changes need not follow a sudden crisis.

Abstract deaths are sterile and meaningless.
A pilot in a bunker has no guiding ethic.
The dehumanized carnage continues.
Thoughts of peace must grow stronger.

W. Wayne B.
Kindle poetry chapbook: Journey Through a Garden

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb

© 2015 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Cúpula de la Bomba Atómica (Atomic Bomb Dome). By Fidel Ramos [Image license]