Do the skies suck away compassion?
Because I see aviators without humanity,
Bomber crews without hearts,
Execrable souls within an iron demon,
Screeching along the zephyrs,
Where even angels fear to follow,

Does the pilot care for those his bombs flatten?
The lands rent by his payload?
I daresay not,
They simply cheer in patriotic tones,
Smirks underneath aviator caps,
Careless of the mushroom cloud in their wake,

They return to their air base sancerre,
And toast to the screams.


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