It was our forever
Here on earth,
Now it is in death
And dying gasp's
For the breath of freedom
Which will never be known.

We too are not innocent
But it is our problem
With our solution;
Not the corruption
Of your president
To intervene.

I answer with tear
Filled eyes and soul,
"Yes, it is true my sweet,
it is just you and I."
Bursting into emotions
With no where to go;
No one to hug or ask
And taking my daughter's
Hand in mine to walk
Away from the bodies
Of my wife, son's
And daughter's;
With only this little one,
Asking, "Is it true?"

"My child this is not
His work of desire.
This is the evil of men
And of their secret
Combinations set to confuse;
For others to reject agency
Of which all men;
"When given a little
authority, exercise
unrighteous dominion."

As the clouds from
And great are the tears
>From heaven, even
The prophets knew
And warned,
But a wicked people
Will never learn;
Therefore all blame
A God, while men
Scorn - and laugh;
And the people suffer
Thus dying to the whim
Of the greatest gift
Of agency - to fail
The test of mortality.

"My child God is crying,
but it was our plan
to allow this to happen;
not another's, ours."

Thus history with
A mocking laughter
Smiles broadly,
"Saying it is always,
but you do not learn;
you think you can mock
me and deceive another.
But it is always been,
and always will be this way."

"You laughed and played,
while teachers failed
to teach of me, except
what they believed,
distorted and conceived;
in the gall of bitterness
a me even I could not believe."

"The winners write of the war,
not the ones who lost.
Then when finally the loser
comes forth the hero
even in evil it is humor
at how gullible
man is in belief."

History then concludes,
"If you fail to learn
of the thorns and nails
required and death known.
The hatred of another,
while thinking of love
at home or within the fire;
I'll laugh and laugh
at the stupidly of the
sickness of your mind,
in not remembering me.
Who I've always been;
my child who cries,
you are not the first
and certainly
will never be the last."

"So seek to know
what is known;
you are without excuse
for today is yesterday
and again tomorrow;
for those who fail to learn."

"I am only a reflection
of your inner, carnal desires;
as while today is Kosovo,
yesterday it was murder,
or rape, or robbery
or adultery, or lying;
know you not of this?"

"Look around and understand
my child, life is the refiner's fire;
not this game you play in school."

"You asked, and now know.
What are you going to do?"

"Gone is the reason now,"
history turns one more time to say,
"For this child to ask why,
better the questions
of why not, because
you've learned not of me?

To seek to console,
is to misunderstand
the child's cry.

He has learned
the cruelest lesson
of the history of men;
"Who when given
a little authority,"
they know not how
to act responsibility
for others.

The world will scream its indignation;
yet in the morning will wonder
of what to do today?