Weapons rain,
Intelligence cries.
Wars refrain,
Destruction lies.
The world floods
With obliging bloods.
Drop the guns, the
world says
But arms everyone buys
and sells.
Power with arms, a
primitive style
Thoughts crucified, in history’s file.
233 countries? 6
continents! Such a small number
Yet unable to wake up, from
their condemned slumber.
When People would
be up with their peaceful power
In an hour they’d
ruin, the need to kill and war.
Leaders will
follow the Peoples of the World,
Intelligence will
smile, glowing and kind
Weapons will rust until they're blurred
Until they drain and wither from the minds.
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