Another analogy confirms the

numerology, statistics, a body count

eulogy. Mother's faces torn in

deep regret, mirroring the

rationale equipping thousands with

the incentive to continue killing.

Still wet behind the ears, soldiers

offer up war cries, affixing the butts

of rifles to the fleshy part of their

shoulders. Another war memorial,

another ten gun salute, another

lowered pine box, another youth

removed before he knew.

Onward in theory,

becomes an overtone

for surreptitious tragedy,

a euphoric sense of

victory.

Disheveled landscapes, pot marked

by generals acting on impulse.

A monitored war machine running

at full throttle, consuming fuel

for which their masters obsess, and

seek clandestinely.

A global fury, an apt military

acting as executioner, and jury.

A flurry of bullets, a hail storm of

incendiary pin point precision,

“smart bombs,” remote controlled

air waves, biased opinion polls.

Wars waged on two fronts,

liberty and freedom lobbied as

scapegoats.

Sadistic enemies reflect a nations

economy. Angered by an unlawful

intrusion. A flag waving leviathan,

for falsely accusing.

This ushers in war, a war waged

by revenge hungry oil monopolies.

A populous ill prepared to handle

the brunt of informative

truths, incapable of swallowing the

ferocity of a culture fighting

to protect the autonomy, their

ancestry, their theology.

Another falls victim. Quenching

a centuries old thirst.

Man has made machines to heal,

nations have made machines to kill,

upsetting the equilibrium.

A standing army has no use,

without murder. Skills become

unpolished, unless ushered into

slaughter.

So onward to victory,

repetitive tragedy,

the euphoric sense of agony,

deaths roll call of inequity.