An Airman's Glimpse

The iron buzzard soars above.
It's wings not like those of the peacefull Dove.
It soars above like a preying hawk.
With talons of steel, it hunts those who walk.
Spewing it's droppings with death in mind,
It's awesomeness exists in the lowest realm of mankind.
The earth below rolls with thunder.
It plagues mankind with his greatest blunder.
For men quake and tremble under it's path.
And some are still, for life has past.
And for those who made it through it's wake,
Shall forever be changed and their souls forsaked.
For war is the rearing head of the beast.
Fueled by souls of these beseeched.
And it shall forever and always remain.
As long as,
We can feel it's pain,
Have greed to gain,
And taste it's distain.