The Burning Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The burning
Let Rome burn, so spake Nero or one of his flunkies
Towns and cities are burning every day in the Middle East
Flames taste not of roasted chestnuts in the Alley
Of peace but the stench of hatred fills the air.
This will continue till the last drop of oil, better still
Until we don`t need petrol for our cares any more.
In the middle of this, we have Israel armed to the teeth
Yet fearful, it is as it knows the future is lost.
I wonder why so many high ranking officers in the USA have
German surnames, one thinks it is a tradition.
In new wars to come it will be about water- resources.
Look out Scandinavia, so you don`t end up like Libya.