On War

In the darkest hour of a war-torn land,

Where sorrow dwelled and hope was banned,

A weary world yearned for peace to impart,

A respite from the tempest, a healing start.

Eleventh hour, the world held its breath,

As cannons roared, dealing a dance with death,

Bitter trenches etched upon scarred terrain,

Witness to the anguish, the relentless pain.

Soldiers weary, with haunted eyes,

Brothers in arms, both enemies and allies,

Each heart heavy with a burden untold,

For they fought for honor, or so they were told.

Generals strategized, their minds consumed,

With tactics that left countless lives entombed,

The mighty nations locked in a deadly embrace,

Yet in the end, what did they truly chase?

The cries of mothers, the tears of wives,

Children orphaned, robbed of innocent lives,

Fathers never to return from fields afar,

Their hopes and dreams shattered by war.

And in that eleventh hour, fate intervened,

An armistice declared, and there was silence so it seems,

A fragile truce embraced by tired souls,

As church bells tolled, a solemn toll.

The guns fell silent, the smoke dispersed,

But the scars remained, deeply rehearsed,

The cost of conflict, too heavy to bear,

The futility of war laid bare.

As poppies bloomed upon the blood-soaked ground,

A crimson tribute,  somber, profound,

We remember the fallen, the sacrifices made,

Their lives stolen by a pointless crusade.

Let us learn from the past, embrace the wise,

Seek harmony and understanding, not demise,

For in the eleventh hour, as peace was won,

We must remember the horrors, lest they're undone.

May the lessons echo through the ages long,

A plea for peace, a collective song,

And may the tragedy of war, nevermore,

Be etched upon humanity's heart, to the very core.