'Bless the beasts and the children'
The Archangels Michael and Gabriel. I stare at the icon, the candle is flickering. I cannot watch the flame anymore without fighting tears. The candle's flame is also fire and fire isn't my friend anymore.
I am afraid to read the news from Romania, I am afraid to read letters from my homeland friends: another death, and another, and another. Every morning means news about more death. I could bear everything but the death of children: that breaks my heart. I'd like to howl in lament, the way only the peasant women of my country do, but in the country I live now people do not lament. They take care of their children.
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And incredibly intense piece of poetry...I am ashamed to be human....innocent children, such a cruel world, thank you for posting this