The Nuclear Clock

Standing over the

apocalyptic remnant

that could ignite the

 

ten seconds to death,

destruction and chaotic

human relations.

 

Commencing countdown

on my mark, insert the keys.

One hundred fifty

 

bright streaks flashing, the

lights will go out for any

people left in the

 

radius known as

Ground Zero. So much for the

silver lining since

 

every mushroom

cloud has one, or so they say.

The collective they,

 

the ones that started

the outbreak. Deterrence is

an exercise in

 

futility and

wasted energy. Rogue states

have the iron wills

 

necessary to

gain prominence on all of

Earth's stages. So much

 

for the idea

of humankind's inherent

generosity.

 

As the old saw goes,

the law of the jungle is

the law of the land.

 

Man is most cruel

to the ones that share his own

characteristics.

 

It is pathetic

that we hold ourselves in such

esteem. We are not

 

the noblest or

the most gracious creatures on

this rough-hewn surface.

 

Fermi let loose the

atomic beast and it has

been downhill since then.

 

The nuclear clock

is always minutes from just

another midnight.

 

So much for divine

hands favoring all mankind's

meek undertakings.