Their lives left us,
Not in their own time,
But in a storm
Of others' choosing,
A storm that left a stain,
But not a trace of them.
When we mourn them,
We might wonder
Who their children
Might have been.
Do not pray for them,
Pray for remembrance
Of the deed,
Forgiveness is not
Ours to give,
Let the dead speak,
If they wish.