Plenty oil; for the war '
Pour the oil..Feed the fire, war with Iran..And drain-stream outlet criers.'
A few ticks to midnight, and all is well.!
We absorb the horror, yet can't really
Tell.' Screen-shots file drops fury and
Shells.' Missiles and the droning.' Media
Artificial..All seens pell-mell.' The dead bodies are
Creations of those hellish narrations.' And
More living are in transit, to the place where Iran
Sits ' no rational motive, these soldiers are
Votive.' An offering to baal.' Well we can't
Prove theres a 'cab-al' its just all maybe? haphazard, Time and tide shows in the
Mirror that got shattered.' I ask it not be
Splattered with blood pending.' I think it matters.? Lives in exchange.' For freedom?
Yet I am 'poet non grata' as the machine
Of vilolence needs them' G I''s marines and
Sailors, i'lll fortune holds no favours.'
Which hero is the bravest.? Only Jesus truly saves us.' All this paloply of power is
But a backdrop to the minutes and hours.'
To the murder of the silent ones,
entombed
In life.' Not allowed to run, to see the world
In all its gory.. That is maintained by much false history. Sacrifices on the altar of lies..
The emancipation of women..'
Or maybe now? They are guys.?
In echoes of more affluence.'
Oh and get ready to pour some
Wine.' On the sands of the
beach-heads just ( this one time! )
as was the jingle in
1914..Now mostly forgotten, though it
was
Also so ob-scene.'
Yet tell me of noble aims and?
Well causes so just.' While we line up for
whatever..' For truly; only, in God can we trust '
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