We are bestowed
The state of life
A spiritual existence;
We breathe
And form ideas,
Spend our days
By our choice,
Expressing art.
Like a phenix-
Each unique
We move and act
And believe
Partially or totally unlike
Then like breath we pass
Go gently
And are remembered
for who we were
For our beliefs
Either earthly or divine
It is our own choices
That create us,
Those that remain at last.
There is no right nor justice
That last gentleness to take
There is no fact, nor truth
About the life
One should make.
Whatever we believe in
Be it humanity or heaven
Pleads for tenderness
And sympathy for man
You may fight for the ill-treated
But not ill-treat
No law, no God,
If there shall one be
Allows to take
What is not yours.
For like a phenix
We are without a like
There is not a right way to be
We should be free
For if not,
We are not we.
I didn't hear the gunfire
I didn't see the chaos
I didn't feel the horror
I can only imagine
Flashes of light and jostling bodies and rattling bullets
Running and tripping and dawning realization
Snippets of shouts for loved ones
The awful hollow thud of what used to be a person hitting the ground
I can only imagine
I cannot fix this aftermath a bit
I am sitting safe in my warm mountain home that has never faced such violations
I am ranting to the wall about the depth of human depravity and how it astounds me
I am wanting the means to help those left behind
I am praying that relief will come swift and easy
I cannot fix this aftermath a bit
So I leave with them my greatest most powerful sincerest wishes
Peace to the sobbing mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers
Solace to the broken best friends and buddies and comrades
Courage to the fighters and soldiers and helpers
Vengeance to the oppressors and devastators and beasts
So I leave with them my greatest most powerful sincerest wishes
I see the images of destruction
I hear of the death toll climbing
I feel the world rising in defense of those wronged