God Never Asked

Masked by boredom,
Gunshots and hate.
A land was lost,
As they fought to gain&;#8230;
&;#8230;what? A trophy?
A medal? Land?
Destroying a land,
To gain another?
God never asked,
To find sense,
In war.
Maybe he should.

Sounds echo though,
This barren land.
The sounds of
Gunshots, finding
Our brothers,
Who stand amongst,
The 'enemy'
Branded as one
Of 'them'.
The sounds of
Groaning, as
Pain shatters hate,
And fragile bodies.
Why? What
Did a stranger
Do to harm you?
God never asked,
To find sense,
In killing.
Maybe he should.

A smell,
A stench,
That ravenges,
The air.
Decaying body,
Rotting away,
Flavoring the air,
With the essence,
Of death.
Man could die,
To give his friend,
A grave to rest,
And stop the torture,
Of the smell.
What is the point,
Of adding to suffering,
Of adding to the grief,
Of his brothers death?
Why should we hurt
Humans, ourselves,
Flesh, blood, souls,
Set apart only by
Religion, country, belief,
Same in world,
Sky, earth, needs?
God never asked,
To find sense,
In anger.
Maybe he should.

Cratered land,
A vast expanse,
Of nothing.
No man can
Live on,
No man can
Own, tend, love.
Turmoiled Earth,
Littered with bodies,
Reddening the soil,
With lost life.
Dead from beliefs.
Killed by their own.
A feeling of
Sorrow, that
Hangs over the
Ground. Innocent
Earth. Stained
By ideas, of
Glory, honour, war.
But what comes,
Of these shadowy ideals,
Is not glory, honour,
But death.
What is the point,
Of this senseless
Destruction, that
Hurt our lands?
God never asked,
To find sense,
In destruction.
Maybe he should.