Your Blood, Their Oil

They sell you homeland in bold black ink. Dripping from walls, they teach you

how to think. Flags in the rain, slogans in glue. A thousand times

told until it feels true. They say go tell the world with cannon and

flame. Murder, poison, burning history's name. They told me

with banners, fathers and bones, heroes and martyrs carved into stones. It's sabbatical right

like a slight of the hand. They redraw the map while you die for the

land. Frontiers, glory, old bloodlines. Borrow pride and

recycle lies. The priest says pray, the rabbi says go.