Uranium-235
Uranium-235—
it was in Democratic Republic of the Congo
the fire of the earth
was taken.
Taken
by powerful hands.
And from that fire,
the Manhattan Project
was born.
Some men
study creation.
Others—
study destruction.
What kind of mind
awakens each morning
to design weapons
for the death of nations?
They call Africa weak.
Yet from Africa
came the mineral
that changed the world forever.
From the soil of Congo
rose the shadow
of the atomic age.
On August 6, 1945—
Atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
turned Hiroshima
into fire and silence.
Innocent souls
vanished beneath light
brighter than the sun.
And Nagasaki
also fell—
another wound
written in ash.
From Plutonium-239,
from uranium,
from human ambition
without mercy.
The people of Japan
speak of forgiveness.
But grief
does not disappear.
Some pain
survives generations.
It sleeps quietly
inside the heart.
And history—
never truly forgets.
America—
you used the atomic bomb
against humanity,
yet today
you warn others
against possessing it.
Power speaks one language
for itself,
and another
for the rest of the world.
And the world notices.
Tell me—
who fears peace more?
The nation
that already holds
the fire of destruction?
Or the nation
seeking power
because others possess it?
This is the tragedy
of mankind.
Those who build
weapons of annihilation
speak endlessly
of security.
While the dead
remain silent
beneath the ruins.
And Congo—
your earth
changed history,
yet your people
still suffer
upon the same soil.
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