A/N: This is the first of a series of apocalyptic poems I wrote for poops and giggles. There will be 10 total.
God of War
hears sirens salute the rising warheads
with a tremulous rumble; they scorch
the malevolent Sun brought down
leaves flesh decaying off the bones
cities drown in flecks of death
animals curl up and die alone
A/N: Yes, I am a horrible person. Especially since I'm sure that this sort of theme is not what the inventor of the Trinet (the style of poetry used for this ten-part series) intended for it.
Next: God of Pestilence