I sit here rummaging through the many pages of the news paper and I see on the front page of the "News" section that the 4,000th has died. No one is lamenting in the streets. I cry here in the low-light bedroom. Their blood brings tears to my eyes. He said that they all volunteered. There is nothing but ice in his heart. He and his cronies.
What will they say for all of you? Thank you for your service? Please no flash photography? You're caskets are tossed aside into the fire of propaganda and yet it is we who hate America. Not even a word from our King. Perhaps a faint sigh in those white halls.
Thou shall not kill. Thou shall not kill. THOU SHALL NOT KILL. Words that were supposed to be etched in our brains by the God. He has forsaken us. Too much innocent blood has been spilled and no God has come along to wipe it up and save us all. I want a God to come along and tell me a bed-time story. I want to know that everything will be all right. Everything will be all right. Everything will be all. Everything will be. Everything will. Everything.
Nothing will stop the emotions tearing inside of me. They just died in the desert. Just like that. Poof. Bam. Bang. Gone in an explosion that took the final four. I hope they find peace. Peace and happiness. I hope you're happy now.
I cannot believe this. Bombs exploding on the Holy horizon. Is it so holy? A holy land of blood and broken limbs. Of shattered hopes and dreams. 4,000 dead and yet there is no structure for their sacrifice here.
The men and women who sent you to your deaths remind me that you guys volunteered. How can they shrug off your death? They are your sons and daughters as well as my brothers and sisters. Arrogance. Violence begets violence. Do dreams beget dreams? Hope begets hope?
4,000 graves dug somewhere on Earth. 4,000 coffins to place the bodies in. 4,000 bodies to fill those coffins. 4,000 who just went away.
And even know as I sit typing in mediocrity I wonder if they are happy now. As their eyes as drawn shut. As their families cry. As their lovers fall asleep in empty beds. As their children say goodbye to mommy or daddy.
So much for "Mission Accomplished!"