"The Death March Digression" (poem)

Two hundred million guns
marching
They have no arms
no legs
no brains
They march with a force
no-one understands
to a place no-one knows.
Flags wave along the way
but it doesn't matter which ones
The marchers won't be back.
They will shoot and kill each other
until only one gun is left
and then it will kill itself.
Then they would say
there is peace
but there would be no-one
to say it.