the last movement

Arcane rumblings bellow out from the infrastructure.
The secrets swell out from the wealthy infidels
    the final bursting of their pregnant whispers.
Now the wise old casualties know all of what’s to come,
    so they pack their sacks with their old guns
    to fortify their army of one.
Benevolence skips the billions of ignorant families
    condemning daughters and sons to an army of none.

The first bullets abandon their barrels
    kicking off, disregarding poise
    eager to make some Godawful noise.
The welcoming blasts: a metallic symphony
Quickly booming into cacophony
                                                      in shrill-major.

Blood spatters pavement, under the marching feet
  Soldiers smile in admiration at the homicide calligraphy,
  "Certainly a panorama to see", admitted even the mercenaries.

Out come the canons,
              dancing on their wheels,
     augmenting the sonata with rifle-explosion accompaniment.
The cosmopolitan of induced tragedy:
Fighting and lashing and lechery for peace ...

Warrior sighs greet the late auxiliary:
     armadas sing in baritone
     while civilians scream soprano.
         Children cry in alto.
         Blood flows in legato.
Today piousness dies;
    It is burned in the oven with altruism-pie.
    
While down below we blaze away our requiem
And by the hand of this same melody we die,
God carves our epitaph:
    “Here lies humanity,
        fashioning, always, a bellicose smile.”