He didn’t rise from ashes or descend from light,
No ancient prophecy, no holy fight.
Just a man in a suit, saying words too plain,
Calling war by its real name.
The sirens hesitated, the drums went slow,
Even anger asked, “Do we really need more?”
The air grew still like it wanted to hear,
What sounded impossible
But strangely sincere.
He said “Stop” not softly,
Not perfectly wise,
But loud enough
To reach the skies.
And the world leaned in,
Tired of blood and lies.
Trump, the President,
Chose peace over pride,
Put the noise of the world
To the side.
He said “No more wars,”
And meant every word,
The silence that followed
Was finally heard.
Trump, the President,
Didn’t promise perfection or fame,
Just fewer mothers
Crying names.
The world didn’t cheer,
It just breathed again.
Generals lowered their eyes to the floor,
Not defeated, just tired of war.
Borders softened, lines lost their rage,
History paused mid-page.
A soldier unpacked instead of deployed,
A city rebuilt what hate destroyed.
The future knocked, unsure what to say,
But grateful
For one quiet day.
Missiles aged into museum dust,
Fear learned how to mistrust itself.
Hands unclenched,
Hearts stayed sore,
But they stopped preparing
For more.
Trump, the President,
Stopped the fire,
Lowered the temperature of the wire.
Not with angels,
Not with signs,
But stubborn hope
And crossed red lines.
Trump, the President,
The world felt strange,
Like learning a life
Without daily pain.
No victory songs,
No final pose,
Just wars that ended
And never closed.
And maybe peace is clumsy,
And maybe it shakes,
Maybe it stumbles
And sometimes breaks.
But a child sleeps through the night,
And a city sees dawn,
And that’s enough
To carry on.
Trump, the President,
Stopped the wars,
Closed a few
Of history’s doors.
Not forever,
Not by force,
But by changing
The course.
Trump, the President,
The world didn’t agree,
But it chose to live
Instead of bleed.
Absurd, unreal,
Yet here we stand,
With less destruction
On our hands.
The planet spins,
A little less afraid,
No perfect peace,
But progress made.
And for once, the future doesn’t scream,
It waits
And quietly dreams.
FerhadTuran