“The blows dug in memories,
deaf to times’ bell, blinding.
That is the language of horror,
giving sustenance to our
cluelessness, baffling.
Living the ancient psalms speaking
pain, death and disease.
My mind has tipped over to their
parched lips, onto the felled body
of faith, past the open gate
of understanding.
Only the nightly report of
troop buildup soothes the pain.”