Of Genocide. who could sing or write
Just silence,impossible and stark
Yet was transmuted in a poet’s mind
Into a dance of final light and dark
Walking to their death by Mozart’s sound
Their special prayers were offered,what great trust
In Cohen’s mind the source of love engraved
Like Job before, he knew the sacred dust
Mysterious is the Lord with his demands
Christians went to Mass, reviled the Jews
Few of us will suffer, understand
Past pure reason ,feeling…God help who?
Beyond that flickering candle flame called God
We see the shadows lost, we see the Dead.