Souls in Flight

 

 

Alone in his room, alone in his mind

No one to share, no one to care

Guns at the ready, loaded and locked

Sights cleaned and polished, mounted and focused

Bags crumpled and empty, his hiding completed

Ammo in clips, stocks oiled and burnished

His mind was empty, his feelings aside

The shooter takes aim and squeezes the trigger.

 

Where was his soul, who knew his fate?

Who will miss him and then wonder why

Fate brought him this far and left him to die,

A soul which flies and dashes to pieces?

His life left in ashes adrift in the wind,

No honor left here, no story to tell.

 

Fifty­ nine souls freed from their hosts

All came for music to brighten their lives.

They hoped for a story to carry back home

Of songs which they liked and maybe they loved.

Their troubles forgotten at least for the time,

No fears for the future, no time for that now,

The music consumed them and lifted their souls

A flash in the sky and then there was silence.

 

Their souls were enchanted and ready to fly.

Not ready to leave, not really their choice,

Their time had arrived with no warning in sight

Their memory stays, their future cut short,

Their stories now passed to those they loved best

Before they expected, it came time to rest.

 

Five twenty ­eight, the number of those

Who were touched by a bullet but not left ice cold.

An instant of fear, but no time to wonder

If next they would live or cease to exist.

The music cut short, panic ensued

Everyone running, ducking for cover.

Would they be among those with stories to tell

Or would they be silenced and murdered as well.

 

Their souls remained, their lives left in tatters

So close to death but spared for a while

Not this time but maybe not too far ahead

A chance for another, a more thoughtful life.

The stories now theirs, they speak in the stead

Of those whom they left and whose lives they now led.

 

 

 

 

 

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