At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the guns were silent; Armistice Day for the war meant to end all wars. The road to hell is paved with good intentions; twenty years later war blanketed the world like the poppies in Flanders field. Millions of lives, millions of dreams, crushed beneath the feet of madmen. Mankind is a misnomer; man is not kind to his fellows. Individually we find kindness, but as a whole we are always on the brink of war. It seems odd that after so many centuries, we have not learned to live in peace. We are on the precipice, the eleventh hour is upon us. We must find our way to enduring peace before Doomsday swallows us all.
~Elise Skidmore ©2023