by Anniel 4/17/14
Of late the faded photograph, grainy and old,
intrudes upon my mind
and sears my sleep:
The women – naked, exposed –
led helplessly to an open grave,
Striving, still, to shield their beauty,
Hands covering breasts and mounds –
Enclosed by encircling arms, one protects her child
now never to be born.
Nearby with rifles stand
who think they are men,
leering at the capturing camera,
Bearing witness forever to their unholy glee.
In the vast economy of God,
Whose loss is worse?
The women, whose beauty is only transformed,
Or the unthinkers who destroy themselves.
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