The floors painted red

The yelling is over

The sky has turned smoky

With souls put forever to rest

The gateway has opened

To never be shut again

The smoke loiters lazily in the room

The young ones; barely older than ten

In an ideal world

On an ideal planet

War would be finished

Harmful drugs would be done with

No more overdoses

No more families grieving

No more Soldiers

Who never come home