Recipes for Endless War

You’re marching from the river to the sea,
Blithely creating one more Holocaust,
A heady thrill, to drive the enemy
Into the deep salt waters. They are lost.
You will be murdering the children, too:
No one is safe, no one escapes unharmed,
Not dancers, visitors, the clean-up crew,
The unloved, the unwary, the unarmed.
Still, though having been burned by genocide,
No one has earned the privilege to bully,
Too many little children having died.
I’m not sure that you understand this fully.
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong,
I heard. (Nothing to see here. Move along.)