ENIGMA VARIATIONS?
Enter the left and enter the right; the forceful
pale soldier is gunning. Others stand forward,
alert in a room, listening to things they do not
understand. 'We are madmen, we are fools,
we are killers, we are ghouls. And this will
never stop.' On the fields shown on screen,
pictures in green of death and destruction,
these people watch willingly to see what they've
done. Bastards can never cave in. A certain
geo-politics is all that's needed to excuse
dead children and the maimed limbs and bodies.
Payback never matters, just as bastards never
cave. Would that I could watch them die as well,
these tax-funded mad hatters, these military obese.
Warfare has become the most methodical of games,
a clinical, pale effusion of clean hands and distant
stares. Reserve for me a perfect stance, from
which to watch this sickening dance.
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