The monstrous factories thrive upon the markets of the war.
Go to the time-clock and punch in; it is time to go
to work, my friend. There is blood yet to spill and profit
yet to glean from the torn limbs and broken bodies.
We placed the children's souls on the assembly line,
soon they will be packaged up for marketing. Don't cry.
After all, there's plenty more where they came from.
Days and nights of blood. Shattered families. Horror.
There is profit in peace, too. (There is always profit,
no matter what.) But there is far more of it in war
and death. Sorrow will feed new cars to the wealthy.
Agony will put fat into the bank accounts. Load
the weapons again; death is writing a really big check.