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The Callous Statues

The callous statues,
Sitting in front of the computers:
The calculating machines,
Press the buttons to launch havocs,
Can not calculate the magnitude,
Of pangs, pains and sheerness of cries,
When they fall with deafening explosions,
Upon the heads of humanity:
Mewling infants, schooling kids,
Women old and young;
The most beautiful object of the universe,
Splattering, splashing around blood,
Scattering debris, wreckage and remains,
Far away from the launching fingers,
Seeing eyes, thinking minds,
And feeling pulsating hearts.

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