Hail, the Commander-In-Chief

Astride his cyber-stallion of hi-tech military might, against the backdrop of missile silos, he's a fearsome sight, the Commander-in-Chief, so huge, malevolently looming, smirking at seared carcasses, grinning and preening as the wounded crawl and drag their corpses through debris, embers and ashes of home and heart, maimed memory; the old, the children, if he says so, must be blasted away, as bloody burnt offerings on the altar of peace, he'd say. "Hail, the Commander-in-Chief! brave champion of peace!" nervously chant his lackeys, clowns, toadies and cronies; a power-dazed lion lionized by those trembling with fear, how I wish, he were this drunk lizard drowning in my beer!