France pleure, nous pleurons avec vous.
(France mourns, we mourn with the people
of France )
By Rob Kingston
They say there is calm now,
smells of spent munitions subsiding.
Lying around and ferried under a different blue the viewers and listeners, the diners and walkers.
One witness speaks of the bodies so high his wife could not climb over,
another of explosions a block away.
Carnage the reporter says as a man mentions the sight of men in black entering a music hall with Kalashnikov rifles, he gifted a choice not to enter.
The news speaks of pierced body parts, an arm, a leg, a shoulder, so many dead, 120 the number that exist no more, rising, many many more the casualties of this next step in a new world war.
Flashes and bangs, whistles and booms, sirens scream as forces reign down.
Tears, shock, the misery on faces, much sadness heaped on a peace-seeking nation.
We now know some say why they chose
Others of ignorance by intelligent beings that choose violence instead, of democracy, though democracy to them has lost its edge to a world full of capitalist cronies who themselves choose numbers over humanity so's said.
We are left to pick up pieces of what is left behind, we will grow stronger in the face of adversity.
Hoping one day that the so called wise people are wise, seeing solutions instead of this continuous cycle of violence and death.
Nos pensées vont à tous ceux qui sont touchés, nous montrons la solidarité avec le peuple français et à leurs invités.
(Our thoughts are with all
those affected; we show solidarity with the French people and their guests).
©
Robert Kingston 14.11.15