The girl walked up the hill. Daisies littered the grassy knoll around her. She paused briefly to pick one of the small flowers then continued upwards. Twirling and skipping, her blue dress fluttered in a breeze. The green of the hillside contrasted brilliantly against the child's pale complexion.

As the girl crested the hill a dire panorama came into view. Across the horizon a line of deepest black stretches in two directions. Nearer the small girl at the hilltop the wreckage of a metropolis broods. Sparse tendrils of steam and grey smoke drift upwards from the charred soil. Metal and concrete colossi jut from the ground, the only reminder of skyscrapers and office buildings.

She looked over the ruined city and laughed. Nothing breaks the spirit of innocence in a child. Below, the haunting remains of the once mighty skyline make depressing homage to the past. When the bombs fell they didn't stop until everything was gone. The same scene is witness to war in countless nations across the globe. Few urban inhabitants survived the decimation. Only the agrarian cultures in the country sides of the world remain intact. Even there, fallout withered what once was.

The tragedy of fifteen years gone is a harsh lesson. That man gained the power to destroy himself is evident. Twisted steel on the plain below that lush hill stands testament to the fact. Still, life goes on and nature cycles as she ever did. Being forgotten the saddest proof of man's deadly mistake.