And so he came to the high place
The broken steps of many years behind him
Many times he had rehearsed his question
It was o so wise and would impress the foolish
But now his heart was shattered
His clothes were rent
There was dirt on his face
He had forgotten all his pretenses


He simply asked
"How could you let this happen?"
"How?"
Again the images of the children
Lying in their blood
Screams and moans now quieted
As their black blood pooled
Bodies scrambled in a classroom
Filled with their innocent drawings

"How could you let this happen?"

As always, there was no answer
Far away the muffled sounds of weeping.