– As we pray for and remember the children of Syria. –
From the worn-torn travesties of tyranny
As the mind of mankind imagines
And turns upon itself,
The scars of war appear like braille,
Battered into walls of our wisdom.
We read by the blind of this light –
The history of our race,
Human and less.
And we wonder
How it was conceived
That such horror to honor
Could come to be.
That one Nation in an illusion,
Could cross a trace in space,
A line, logic we see,
And war upon itself,
To find its own soul
Made not now to be free.
That there then departed
Were the yet young children,
Children of so many dreams,
By soldiers set to march upon others
With one mind, not of their own making,
And not lovingly.
But they were once yours to be,
The children, your dream’s destiny,
Now destined to be destroyed,
They and all they could ever be.
Yes, they were in your arms one day.
They were there to love you
And cherish and need.
By what questions do we maintain
Who we are, what will be?
The questions unknown,
But the answer I see.
Love is the answer.
It is the only answer.
And it will always be.