I'm sorry, I know we have to keep seeing these things, help our country to remember...
Sometimes they seem too weak and willing to forget, but these moments of the ultimate price include all the moments along the spectrum of death that bring us up to the edge of this moment and yet they forever change our lives, scarring us, leaving some cold and homeless on our city streets and others violent and angry in the quiet of our homes, and still others one part broken family (the little pieces falling off) year after year.
The price... on some days... is just too high when I see our leaders willing to rush to throw the bodies of our fathers and brothers and sisters and children to plug some imaginary hole or some lonely hill's bloody soils, only to turn it over to the people who would have taken it anyway at some point of political gain that we could hardly understand. Some issue of thought that we could barely hold within us it's details, clawing in our brain.... some point our counterpoint that, like the bodies of those we love... floats away in that river of life and time as we pause to comprehend or gasps at understanding in the tonal deafening of the loss we as families endure for the rest of our lives.
It is then we, mere mortals shake in the night at the passing of our brave brothers and sisters to immortality's cold grasp. Then and for nights ever after feeling the hollow drum's echo within our bowels. It's beat giving way to deafening pause and silence only to be regained in a moment by another heart rendering explosion of loss. Entire families die in such well wished violence. Death is terminal in so many ways and all of them drowning, suffocating and silent.
