20 August 2005
The brush fires have started again,
edging closer, eating color,
transforming form into shadow.
Marching to the crackling martial music,
an army that will not be stopped
has been unleashed and all the flags
are waving once again. And so it burns.
The oxygen of shouting feeds the fire
like laughter to a clown. And so it burns.
Neither sand, nor sea, can stop it's advance.
It is a killing fire. And so it burns.
It follows orders, is patriotic,
and will not question the morality
of devouring the innocent.
The fuel that compels this army forward
is the certainty of its righteousness,
the hatred of uncertainty.
They spit gasoline from their mouthes
as village after village falls,
as babies and young children are consumed
and the Earth becomes a cinder.
© 2005, Satya J. Gabriel