They arrived as shadows, silent fluid shapes
Seventy men ,armed avengers
No match for casual guards, wives and children
Bullets drilled the fate of the five dead
Played out on a screen in real time
A lifeless corpse, drained of blood
Stripped of possessions, dumped.
From anonymity to notoriety
Then consigned to oblivion.
A private affair
The towers had crumbled as dust
Madrid baked in incendiary heat
Helpless passengers mercilessly interred
Paradise blown to hell
Played out on a screen in real time
Wild crowds danced in jubilation
Lacking only a head carried aloft
Wide-eyed with hate, dizzy with revenge
The cameras caught every whoop of
A private affair
From darkness comes darkness
From light comes light
In life as in death, what’s right is right.
Well put, Gary. If you want to dance, find a dance floor, not a dead man's grave.
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