Just a start (wip)

Mother, there’s a cloud overhead
a mushroom in the air.
“Look, my child,”
Around him wraps poisoned arms-
cold as steel.

They march line after line,
Mother as their lead.
Winter following their steps.

Mother, the sky has turned red
and bled into the ground.
Men are falling, Mother!
The children are burning
Dear Mother, won’t you stop?
Take off the mask-
the one that empties your eyes.

There’s planes in the sky,
The ground is breaking…

TO BE CONTINUED.

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Learning about WWI/WWII always puts me in the mood to write.