If there had never been a death
Or casualty by your mean hand
Would life have meant as much to you
Which slips away like hourglass sand?

What purpose do you fathom,
Is faith a heartless rage
Against the foes you love to hate,
The guardians of the age?

How clever your reduction
Of human life to senseless death
Your mind control is absolute
Your victims stifling their own breath.

And your angelic master
Whose face was seen in murder's smoke
How deep the bitter irony
Religion was his master stroke.

Now death will stalk you also
While still you boast of more.
Perhaps The only love you know
Is love of death, the scoreless draw.

Greg Annett, 11th October 2001