Shaped to kill

A bullet shaped to kill, mum.
Born to fly though a man, a psychopathic hornet.
From a chamber of a womb, it´s born and someone´s bleeding.
Barb wire, dad... To catch desperate bodies.
A wave of flesh sent by the government in some plight of victory.
Sharp tangled metal for the shell shocked soldier waking from a bad dream.
It´s shaped to kill, some demented mind´s invention.
In love with death some great king becomes infatuated.
An abstract dictator, high on his own odour.
Buying the forms of guaranteed soul taking metal, fire and chemicals that his own faith forbid.
Shaped to kill like some felic destroyer;
On the horizon of factories producing faith in another man´s demise.
What´s your madness?