by Nick Gisburne
Apocalypse: the final way to fight
A button, activated with a thumb
A cataclysmic holocaust of light
Leaves every atom sterile, silent, numb
As clouds of poison saturate the sky
Electric storms accelerate their spread
No witness will survive to wonder why
Forever purged, a desert, dark and dead
What septic mind, what madness, would agree
To smash this world to smoking dunes of dust?
What evil would incinerate the sea?
And yet, that curse will come, because it must
When life and death are pieces in a game
Who wins a war with no one left to blame?
