Prophets Of Profit

in the shadows beneath the trees, the men with the long knives wait; call them unholy, call them prophets, men of vision, men of change... soldiers of the grey kingdom, where nothing is revealed. every starving child, every bomb dropped on indiscriminate huts... every girl baby aborted, every young boy sent to prison for his education... every young girl bought for an hour, used like a rag, and tossed aside.... for miles and miles of oceans poisoned by oil.... for the homeless man beaten to death by the deputy.... the migrant family terrorized, the young gay boy found hanging.... the men with the long knives wait... choosing who will live and die, who is useful, and who is not... the judges chosen by the oil drenched hand.... the prophets of profit!