The mushroom clouds soar,

The radiation will flow,

Akin to phoenix,

A world reborn through fire,

Before bringing tainted snow.

Escaping fallout,

Men, women, children will hide,

The one question "why",

In hundreds of languages,

While watching, waiting, hoping.

The generals too,

Asking the leaders of countries,

Once full of power,

Their own question of "what now",

The leaders frail and fragile,

Lost, with eyes distant,

Once so full of charisma,

Will shrug their shoulders,

In a whisper "I don't know."

Hundreds of years will follow,

Before the remnants,

Emerge from their hidey hole,

Eyes squinted like moles,

To find a new world waiting,

A blanket of heat or snow,

Will cover the land,

Unlike many years ago,

Before the keys turned.