He who has not sinned....

We are all struck by the stones that get thrown;
Hit, by the bombs that blow apart our pretence.
Bullets to lodge inside us as we watch this terror,
And we then start to write of it with our own blood.

Scratchings on the walls; something to say we were here
We don't write like the old books; just fear and persuasion.
Truth and directness of prophet's left to fall upon our deaf ears,
And the morning calls just there to cover cries and gunshots.

He who has not sinned holds the stones that never shatter,
Or fall upon the bodies and the faces of so many now assaulted.
Why must we engage in death and throw our stones so eagerly
For we who have sinned; keep doing so, in a failed effort to set us
free.