What remains is a smoldering pile of vulnerability
and the pre-programmed response demanding, “Vengeance!”

What remains is the rippling wave from all this suffering
that prompts a battered ego’s question of, “Why me?”

Some things cannot be understood.
Some things will never make much sense.

Some things defy every label we apply.
     Rainwater moments
          eroding innocence.

What remains is the foundation of stained and blasted unity;
built with bricks of hope and the mortar of bloodshed.

What remains – shards of compassion obscured by an axiology
that allows the human beast to feed upon the human being.

Some things cannot be understood.
Some things will never make much sense.

Some things defy every label we apply.
     Magnetic aether
          collecting ignorance.

What remains is the denial of our own superfluity.

Push a boulder up a hill,
     it will
          roll down
                         again and again and again and again and again and again and again