The Final Act

The battlefield, a canvas, where horrors freely roam. Words from War’s sharpened tongue, unflinching, echoing violence and its home.

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A relentless force unleashed, a fury hard to quell. Through catastrophic discourse, the end it strives to tell.

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The shriek of steel, the splatter of crimson stain; in gruesome rhymes, depicting the warrior's bane.

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The thunderous artillery, the screams that fill the air. Soldiers torn asunder,  the atrocities laid bare.

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Beneath the crimson skies, the world consumed in fire. An apocalyptic tempest, a fate that none desire.

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The earth, it quakes and shudders, into entropy it descends. In sounds wrought with thunder, where devastation never ends.

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In this crucible of chaos, where darkness takes its hold; a brutal tale of warfare, it's sounds fierce and bold.

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The heavens weep with acid rain, the rivers run with blood. In this unstoppable apocalypse, where hope begins to flood.

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In these stark images, the sky is bloodied red; the earth soaked in anguish, as brutality is spread.

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Through detailed intricate verses, a carnage to declare. A cacophony of suffering, as the reaper’s deathly eyes stare.

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The thunderbolts of doom, a symphony so dire. In every line and stanza, the world's funeral pyre.

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For war, it knows no mercy; no quarter, no remorse. In it’s harsh persistent cadence, a relentless, brutal force.

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The howling winds of anguish, the screams of lost despair. In this relentless maelstrom, no solace left to spare.

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Cities crumble into dust, as empires meet their fall. In a climatic crescendo, we heed the final call.

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A darkened shroud's chilling poignant psalm, as nations clash and empires crumble ’neath moon and stars.

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In this final war the world is set ablaze, it's desolation casts a shadow; the horizon enriched with scars.