Blood touches blood on the street of Nevada,
The night the devil takes vacation in Las Vegas.
We ask how much blood will end this war on the innocent?
Those who feed the guns better than the gunners
Must know that he who sleeps with guns will one day dream of war.
He who keeps guns will one day wish all men were hostiles.
There are no good children in a gun; they are emissaries of death.
Having no good message from their wishers.
We heard about those who died shielding their lovers
from errands of death.
We heard about courageous men who bore their wives
like babies as they tarried to sleep, too tired to wake as their bodies
Profusely sweated blood, and then closed their eyes
with hands washed in saliva and tears.
We thought about those who cheated death by tarrying
for their lovers in hospitals to whisper in their ears
“now I have seen your eyes I can die.”
Our hearts are sad at the thoughts of your French leave
Your light is brief, you come out once like the moon
to lighten the mood of darkness and then leave.
As the sun breaks the chain of darkness,
And its memory puts the night in good mood.
We will remember your light hid in thick darkness.
Sleep on beloved. We’ll meet in dreams
And share stories of broken dreams,
Stories of mystery that parts us like flood,
Stories of men who can’t be woken by their snores.
There are many who slept without a dream.
There are others who dreamt without waking up.
Although, you didn’t live to see your dream, you slept well.
Sleep well beloved, our mighty river of benevolence will bear you
Safe to harbour and when you find the coward, the gunman,
Who learnt the art of shooting without corking,
Please, forgive him. Only love defeats hate.