The Penultimate War

This was then...
Another galaxy, a water world, beings have come here, on earth to help.
From a place, one that no longer exists, one that war once begot.
One by one, fought, begged, pleaded, once more, peace denied.
Wars, the penultimate war, somehow, it would never stop.
A world, beautiful beyond mortal human's comprehension.
A planet ringed with mists, from the water filled habitats.
Once vibrant, living, breathing, like the land beneath your feet.
Obliterated, blown apart, nothing more than cosmic dust.
Millions of inhabitants, disintegrated, now molecules.
Ruination, belief systems, disagreements.
Wars, deaths over who is right or wrong.
Uncompromisng, total acceptance, review, share, pass it on.

This is now...
It's one am, a clear night, come join us, sitting outside.
Covered by a blanket of stars, bathed in moonlight, the anticipation.
Remote place, desert sand searches, for that which is desired.
Collected, pockets full of bits, space specks, shooting stars.
Meteors, thousands, once a home.
Now, a belt of milky dust.
Mementos, rocks, dust, dispersed for time immortal.
From a pocket, meteors, collection of two carried.
Here is hope, peace, members from a small, but growing collection.
Longed for, a physical representation, a piece of home.
From a place, where the war finally stopped.
Any way, to reconnect with the start of the end.
Watch with us, for shooting stars, a piece of home, never to be found.
War demolishes everything, reminders of the peace that never was.