Maybe the idea has had its day
And the names associated with it have been evoked to the point of meaningless boredom,
But when the dead leaves are blown away from the headstone,
And the bones taken out and put under the microscope once more,
It isn't too far-fetched to have collective remembrance of the heart-stopping sounds of heavy booted feet marching in perfect, demonic unison,
The faceless faces of cruel men watching the crowd with expressions devoid of mercy and compassion.,
And ourselves blood-red mad , raw-throated from the shouts and screams of hatred of the other,
We can only wonder
at the possibility of our inner darknesses rising up to consume and drown the souls of those around us in an excess of misguided vengeance,
Our humanity and tolerance destroyed by the pops of the first bullets.

We must never come this way again.