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Voices clamor in my head as I try to sleep,
Voices of
children and parents that weep.
This night is troubled as spirits rise,
Reluctant, upward
through the skies.
Confusion at best from the very start,
No anger or grief
from these remorseful hearts.
Their lives snuffed out as a candle flame,
Who to blame,
who to blame?
Voices clamoring to be heard,
Too many cries, too many
words.
I try to block them out but can't,
I toss and listen to
them rant.
Voices of children are the worse,
Some repeating a
nursery verse.
Calls for mama's go unheard,
One's so young, now a
blur.
They gave their lives in a futile fight,
Unwilling
participants go brightly in the night.
Gently I lead them to the shining light,
And pray they
understand this was not right.
The spirit knows all things past,
Are repeated until the
last.
Confusion and hatred planted in an empty heart,
Is not
the way to go to make a new start.
Great Spirit cries at all the lies,
As we pray for the
dead with opened eyes.
