An equation

So what of it, the black stuff.
Selfishly raiding the burial grounds of shellfish in new forms of desecration
The industrialised world undoubtedly has a raging addiction.
The geopolitics of the situation complicated by the fact that oil and water don't mix
And without delving into specifics, an irreducibility of differing monotheistics.
And ah yes markets.

Statistics presciently predict in text this conflict long hence.
The sense that increasing consumption of a finite resource
Plus bigots times power over arms equals
Recourse to violence cannot be silenced by current events.
For a fuss over lubricant it all seems a bit tense.

War seems rather warmer than when the world
Was wary of silos and bombers,
Gone is any honour, but much is claimed in raining terror,
And of course those guided by their lord will admit no error.

So in the echo of marbled halls various voices drawl
Grey haired men enthralled by their status cut a dash
With much blood to wash from gushing cash
And the Asian flu an atomic rash.

Horses move in manouveures that would make Enron blush
Manufactured media-cased motives are those of purity
Freedom, democracy,
New markets created in health, construction, security
And a rich price available for liquid energy.

Accusations fly and are reflected in retort
That the pursuit of energy masks belligerence
And belligerence the pursuit of resource
The opening of old sores, the pursuit of old scores.

I don't remember before the Ayatollah
But the dollar does,
So inoculation seems the only course of action
Against a whole range of Asian infections.

Each nation drawing its conclusion
To latterly adopt a strategy that's MAD
As differences are analysed
Between Pyong-Yang and Baghdad.

But we keep on guzzling,
And the bombs will help juggling
Of currency, devilry, deficits and epithets
But they won't fit the last peice of the puzzle in.

A last piece, replacing a highness.
But not that last peace
If bigots times power,
Over arms
Equals violence.