Blessed is the one who listens to the children's cries
who takes on the pain and sin that strangles lives
and does not walk away.
Blessed is the one who is afraid but does not run
who is alone and still trusts.

As for me,
from the whisper of vulture wings
I have hid.
Abandoned my friend.
Sought to be spared from another's agony.
Said "I don't know him".
Oh just let me sleep
through babies dying
through mothers moaning
through spears and guns and screams and crosses burning.
I do not want to die.

See, he has fallen.
Oh why did he not fight back?
Why did he say
yes
yes
and yes again
to the blows and the jeers
to the rough lumber in the sun
while I avoided him
and lived a reasonable life
of measured compassion and safe altruism.
I lashed him with my fear
and my gentility drove the nails.

There are no words left