The Final End Is Near Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

We make our plans, we set our course,
But do we know its hidden force?
The path we choose, the seeds we sow,
What future harvest will they grow?

A mighty land, with power to wield,
Will not accept a battlefield
Where all is lost, its pride undone,
A line they'll draw, beneath the sun.

If pushed too far, a desperate plea,
Could darkness fall for all to see.
Our world, a fragile, spinning sphere,
Could vanish in a wave of fear.

So let us pause, and think it through,
The cost of what we say and do.
To arm a fight, to fan the flame,
What price for glory, what for shame?

A quiet talk, with open eyes,
Beneath these vast and worried skies.
For every choice, a ripple starts,
And touches distant, fragile hearts.