Legacy

In the aftermath,
vanilla scented innocence
whispers, heard only by
tendrils of graying gun smoke.

A small voice bears
whimpering witness to unspeakable
happenings, too tainted to
disrupt the vacant stares from
thousands of miles away.

Shattered nescience mixes
with blood, flowing over echoing
floors once filled with childish
laughter.

The scurry of footsteps,
too late,
break the silence
within the fractured halls of a
breached safe zone...
and the hearts of those who wait.

The small voice is amplified in
a thousand screaming questions
which descend and tighten on this place
like a new chain.

Words will soon erupt
from the awed mouths of those
who felt bullets rain
down...

They will be screamed by the
quivering parents whose thoughts
will be forever tortured
by what has been; by what could
have been...

From miles around, these words
will be cried, whispered,
called out in pain and
agony as thirteen stolen lives
flash across the world...

leaving only a silent question:
"Where can we be safe?"


Notes

Prompt: The Columbine tragedy.
An entry for Week 5 "Invalid Item" 

Thank you for taking time to read my work. I would appreciate it if you'd take a moment and leave a comment. Reactions, criticisms, thoughts... all are equally welcome.

Ken