CCA 3.0
By Alan Price
We ask you to walk forward, then immediately backward.
North. West. Today South. The compass of death is erratic.
Be allotted a place on the road to a peace that can be forfeited.
Most of you are innocent. Yet innocence can shield a fanatic.
The sound of crying children could soon be imperceptible.
Arrangements beget adjustments in this century plus fight.
The plan is for technocratic silence made to be irreparable.
Our objective’s yours: obliterate suffering ferociously tight.
We have our best intentions at heart – no more burials here.
You can stay in the chaos or stumble to a neighbouring land.
Rule yourselves far away from us: imagining an end to fear.
For the state you’re in will be written in blown alien sand.
