Hello, everyone. Here is another one of my riddle poems. Please review and, of course, answer the riddle. Thank you in advance, for school might take my time again.
This thing that I speak about
Makes us all fear and despair,
Yet we always begin it;
Then say that it was not fair.
Blood is spilled, disaster made,
Earth ruined, living or dead,
Life destroyed, fear is invoked,
Bane of many, it is said.
Humph. Hmmm. Ah!