Cent in the I of destruction

Troubles flare in the breezy leaves and distressed bark
Fellows flock to quarters rocked oblivious to the dark
Seashores wave red in grave remarks scattered and free
Single sensation spent desolation pouring in from sea

This fire breathing unplanned assault retching the senses
Cringes every eye peering at graphic abuse in the trenches
How is this allowed to prevail unrestricted and without contest
Asking only obligatory queries as if indeed we had conscience

Alarms rage as hair awakens with realizations of the nations
Reaction without traction forces aggressions with vibrations
Final pictures of destiny drape feeble shafts of final starvation
Brittle white calcium glows with foul disintegrating illumination

Who were the defendants
What finds the relevance
Where is the innocence
When war kills it's ignorance
Why did this start from belligerence
How much worth were the extra cents