Charred Altar

Against the seething horizon you stand malevolently looming, gloating over the tragic fate of the vanquished, the doomed now dying; there, the wounded many, they crawl, drag cold corpses through bloodied debris; smoky embers, ashes of home, shards of shattered hearts, maimed memory; the old, the ill, the children, if you say so, will be blasted away as nothing more than burnt offerings on the charred altar of peace, you'd say!