Looking at the hue in the sky, observing the tranquility it has to offer, sometimes one can wonder, were the skies always so serene? has there always been existence, of opportunities that convey, simple leisure to whirl up our imagination, to see what figures we create out of nothing? or has the world been taut between endless wars, wars that don't allow much comfort, that we may look up and appreciate the variety of hues. a tendentious reading of history, has shown how wars have been recurrent, and how weapons were forged accordingly. what a writer's mind might wander into, is the inevitable process of thinking about the weapons that were forged. what you observe in the museums, and oftentimes, in contemporary news, is how lethal weapons are designed, but are barely used, and oftentimes never used up to their full potential. hoping to fathom what their true abilities might be, a weakening kick to the senses make us grave, because some of those might not see the daylight. it t...