I have seen such suffering,
I have lived such sorrow,
raining down like ash
to smother tiny voices
and small bird wings.
I ask why, but the answer
is never clear --
revelation is not my
   epiphany.
How can this happen?
Why does this happen?
Such pain --excruciating
   in exactness --
unrelenting in its
unwanted gifts.
I have seen such suffering,
I have lived such sorrow,
   raining down...