And We Fall
. . . over and over, until the trees no longer shake their leaves in prayer, and the earth can no longer bear to receive us -- until the wind no longer sobs, and the iron sky has no more tears -- until the sea and the land forget that they are rivals -- until the stones refuse to mark our passage anymore, and we are forced to admit, we have no-one to blame for this -- that the smoke blinding us, the ash clinging to our teeth, and the steel tears searing flesh -- all are ours, ours, and ours alone, our making because we refuse to make stars out of the coals that burn in our hearts -- because, instead, we choose to make wars . . .
W. Luther Jett