Amidst the howling storms screeches the wild banshee,
From Ukraine, the Persian gulf to the south China Sea.
All of the players in place, non the type to back down,
Jostling for position, as the clock continues it's countdown.
Non of this is new, some tensions stem from genarations past,
But our failures to resolve them, only adds to our grim forecast.
The world points its fingers, but who knows who's really to blame,
For hasn't war always been humanities favourite game?
Precariously we hang, over the precipice,
Not knowing if or when, we'll have to face the abyss.
Many countries, already suffering a terrible toll,
As vying powers wage war by proxi for influence and control.
Who knows how the world will face this grave test,
The gruesome game is set,
Alea iacta est.
©nox
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