A Solution

 

A trickle of faltering smoke wound its way upward

many were left standing bereft

As the families of who were left

became as a column of smoke toward the sky

 

Harsh voices broke their numbed silence

a ragged group soon assembled

Mentally and spiritually disabled

there had been no time to even say farewell

 

A small orchestra on a worn lawn

began to play Wagner´s Gotterdammerung

Not one voice there could be sung

not a bird could be seen or heard

 

A factory erected to dispatch souls

planned with surgical precision

Had confiscated every possession

to send the innocent to their maker