War-Machine

The War-Machine
The whirling of the war-machine
is deafening as it
thunders over burning* fields
on an endless road to oblivion.

Not so sure whether I should have posted it. I find it rather second-rate; I had hastily scribbled it down while helping a friend with his English homework way back when in November (the third of 2006 if you must know, yes I remembered the date! It's a day that shall remain burned in my mind forevermore...).

*blasted?

'Twas good, but a bit too short, expension would be nice. I think "burning" is better than "blasted". Just needs length.

I would really like to see this expanded--just when you get the tiniest glimpse of what is really at the core of the poem, it ends, and the reader is left hanging.

I would keep "burning" and I would continue this--it's an interesting concept and it would be interesting to really delve into the heart of what you are commenting on.

I see no reason to expand this, I feel it gives the message quite clearly - there shall always be war, in one form or another. And its outcome is always negative (yea, for both sides).