The Questions

How many times in a life 
do we think, 
I never wanted to live through this...

Mother faces the mourning
of the living.
My Angel, she says
my Angel's flame has turned to inferno.
It has not been this bad in years.
How can I go through this again?

I never 
wanted to live through this...

The Angel, himself caught 

on the cusp of rage
and despair, How can I walk
this world of wrongs and worthless
words? The only choices doomed 
creation or damned 
destruction, forced to walk 
either alone or encumbered...

I never wanted to live 
through this...

The tableau grows. 
Many mothers
in abject silence, a school
surrounded, asking,
Our angels, our demons, who
will survive this day? Flames
to light the world or

to incinerate,
our children we love the same.

I never wanted to live through
this...

Time and place expand. Towers burn. 

Mothers mourn. Lights go out. 

Mothers burn. Infernos tower.

Angels are blackened,

demons enflamed. 

Who will survive this day? 
How can we go through this again?

I
never wanted to live through this.

The world burns. 
Sparks singe our lungs. 
Flames ignite our hearts. 
What has kindled in this world?

It has not been this bad in decades.
What separates angels from demons?

How can we go through this again and again?
Who will survive our love?

I never wanted to
live through this.

Somehow, we find ourselves angels.

Somehow we shine 

to light the way through this.