Creating the End

A thousand

quietly collaborating minds

-

a pipe exuding smoke.

-

A tight suit on a straw man,

his millionth regret,

-

ash and bone left in Los Alamos.

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A great flash, a stunned silence

the rumbling ground.

-

The fission causing fissure

the blinding light, five miles high.

-

A fiery wall

set to destroy the world.

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The suits curate locations

prepping their creation for its

moment of so-called greatness,

the weapon to end all wars, forever.

-

Their detachment a sickening immunity,

they’ll never be affected.

-

Jovial names attached to Death itself,

Little Boy and Fat Man dropped,

some two hundred thousand killed,

and the world forever worsened.

-

Pandora’s box, now opened.

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With time, stockpiles are built

and they craft a new world from fear

leaving the ghosts for the next generation,

disaster ever-near, hope fogged and unclear.

-

The loss accumulates,

the mistakes multiply,

the tension now infinite.

-

The horrors still double

the world’s blackest bubble,

the historical cloud

never to diminish.