Fragile

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

- Fragile, Sting

A man from Fallujah came to see me yesterday.
He related a story of a personal encounter.

"I had a special friend..." he began.
"2 days before he was bound to go for Hajj, they slaughtered him in front of his house"...he paused, tears begin to burgeon in his eyes.
"And we weren't even allowed to see and bury him"...he then started weeping like a baby.
This 50 year old man from Fallujah, who's known for bravery...wept like a baby!

I would never forget this special man from Fallujah.
Or the story he told me.
Or that look he had on his face.
And I will remember how the story burned in my eyes.
How anger consumed my very being, as I stared at him, over stricken with grief.

After I managed to compose myself, I asked him...

"How did we end up here?"

All this gentle man did was curl his shoulders, with a look of sincere confusion.
And so, the responsibility falls on me.
I know how and where it began!
And by playing oblivion, my brothers pay.

I will not forget that man from Fallujah.
Even when the rain has finished washing the stains of steels meeting flesh.
Somethings...will always stay.