Weapons of mass destruction were your reasoning,
but also remain your payload.
Decimated lives leave empty holes
in family trees,
the fruit of life rotting
as corpses on the ground.
Despair for the future as life toils on.

A seed germinates,
and a flower grows through desert soil
to be crushed by the cold hard steel
of motioned tank tracks.
Life is flattened in their wake,
sleeping in a foreign country
with fear in the veins.