People are murdered. At the time some are innocent of “the cause” – some are not. Together theirs is a fiery death. More often than not death comes to them out of the sky. It is sudden. Without warning. There is no time for final preparations no time for prayer – no time to say good-by.
Some call this terror others the war on terror. Burned bodies of grandmothers and children are their own witness. How difficult it is in this world of normalcy to know right from wrong! How hard to hold onto the lesser of two evils.
Many on the ground in the killing fields are running to or from the scene of a new crime. Some call this homicide war and the fist of judgment. Some call it vengeance and the hand of God. The dying in shrouds of fire are invocations of history.