A Blemish in Our Atmosphere

Between the curves where space and sky entwine, The air is stripped by violent, solar flow; A savagery inherently benign, When matched with what arises

The Spoils of Peace

As echoes of past conflicts start to fade, The dissipating fog lays bare what’s planned; Whilst treaties dance upon a blunted blade, With bloodied fist

The Machine Gun

Hiram Maxim was born in Maine, Embarking down a path which that Gave us a gun that bore his name, Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat.   The British

Destroyer of Worlds

A letter from a German god, Did bring new players to the game; Their moral thoughts we now think odd, And nothing now would be