Terror is the tool of the weak,
inflicted in the hopes of turning a cut
into an infection.

And here it is,
sound the alarm to cut off the arm
for a wounded finger.

It is easier to be cowardly in the face of danger
until the moment the fear-mongering subsides
and introspective reflection reveals a collective shame,

the shame that we steeled our hearts out of fear,
and did not double down on our compassion,
as the prophet Jesus Christ of Nazareth did
in sacrifice of something bigger than just a god.

There's evil in the bunch, they say,
so the quickest solution is to burn the bunch.
You better pray to your god, then,
that no one survives,

for a hand reaching out for assistance,
in being rejected is a sin on both the aggrieved
and the denier, to be carried in the hearts
of our children like molten lead.

The surviving generation will remember, of course,
and the terror will be realized.