The Output Is Out of a Lot of Inventions Living - Sonnet

The output is out of a lot of inventions living Infesting only some powers and weapons Pervading the earth and air are circling Enthused in insensitivity and blushless clash, And have stood in an open contrast Endeavouring him to mentally crush To commit him first dead in those trash Raising a violent war around the global village; But he with his group And every power are merely standing troop Hiding the grave fault fighting to mark Striving to subdue but groping in the dark, So, all his policies, gaining and ethical part Are cursed in the century’s worldwide dirt.