Thoughts and reflections on VT tragedy

Hello all. I'm resident lurker Rheinaoi and I've come again offering another poem for the community.

I considered remaining silent on this matter out of deference. But then, a piece of writing is the greatest gift of condolence that can be given by a writer. I offer my sorrows as well as this bit of understanding I have acquired in my short life.

I can offer this understanding in confidence because…

_The Difficult Path_

The story of angels slain
though their wings were torn and frayed,
they were angels still,
even if their wings were gray.

A fallen man walked amongst them.
From the touch of love itself,
he had fallen so far,
that he walked the halls of this world,
alone.

The angels reached for him;
stretched their arms out as far as they could.
Hands of angels, reaching through mist and fog
all so gray,
but the fallen man,
he’d walked empty halls
for far too long,
and spent years too many
in empty silence.
It was too easy for the world to forget him
and easier still,
for he to forget himself.

No one knew fully,
but all saw…

Though his words, they were born of the same breaths
as angels,
he had fallen so far from love
that the words he could have shared,
were of a language only he knew.
A fallen man,
fallen from love,
the wings he might have had,
the beautiful wings he’d been born with,
he could have unfurled them,
but those beautiful hidden wings,
they withered and died,
and fell from his back.
Those gray wings,
he never knew he was born with.

We think often
that the world is large enough
for only two faces of a person:
angel,
and demon.
We think only angels are capable of good acts
and demons,
know only evil.
To think this way,
it is easier,
but because only,
it keeps the difficult questions,
with their difficult answers,
at bay.

It is easiest to condemn the fallen man.
But this simple justice gained;
of turning our hearts and our minds away
is as small and empty
as what we think of he,
fallen man.

Should we think him only demon
wearing the mask of a frail man,
then justice is empty,
because our thoughts go no deeper.

When souls are born,
they are all born,
beautiful.
It is not life’s way
for any soul to be born any less,
than beautiful.

But the path of life is long,
each step weighted and heavy.
And for those with souls weakened,
they who do not know how to find the way,
they…
they…
souls of broken body, broken mind,
those born beyond their own repair,
souls frayed to tatters so badly,
that they know it not,
how to cry the simplest words:
“help me.â€Â

And he,
fallen man
possessor of his youthful gifts,
he chose to misuse then utterly.
He took up the path of the broken,
path of the manhood falsest.
He remade himself in his last hours
into the image of false man,
‘twas only a thing made of broken images,
as strong
as destroyer,
never weak,
but secretly always,
a victim,
and beyond the need for little things
tiny things,
as love…
He became fallen man
and carried out the acts
of where love is absent.
And he fell into that place,
evil,
that place where love cannot reach.
His manhood,
‘twas but a thing made of only broken images,
his humanity,
marked by only evil actions.
He had become fallen man,
for he could see himself,
as nothing more.

No soul is born evil.
We are only but given,
free will.
So it is but our actions and choices,
that can be judged evil.

If we had seen sooner,
If we could have shown he,
fallen man,
if we could have shown him
the true love, the true image,
of manhood,
manhood that is gentle,
living for the sake of love,
a manhood that is fully,
and completely,
human…

But he made the choice,
to walk the broken path,
listening not to those who would reach for him.

If he had only known that the world was full of love,
where angels of wings, frayed and gray
were ready to embrace him.
If only he knew,
that he was truly welcome in this world…
Arms reaching
waiting to hold him…
If only he had taken the difficult path
the hard choice,
to be a true man,
and completely surrender himself,
to love;
that most difficult and beautiful path.

To turn thy back on love
is the action
of complete helplessness.

We gain so very little
from the simple condemnation,
of a fallen man
who had lost the path,
to love.

The actions of a fallen soul can be condemned.
What a fallen soul becomes,
the face that shows the place
where love died…
But as we mourn,
for the beauty that was stolen from this world
let us no longer hate and damn.
Please, let us not hate.

As we mourn for the angels taken from this world,
let us rise to highest action,
and beyond the easiest path,
beyond that path where love is so easily forgotten.

Embrace highest action,
and show not how far a soul can fall,
but let us show how high our souls can rise,
as we walk that difficult path,
to the most universal love.

As we mourn let us surrender ourselves to love
so that we remember simply
that all souls are born,
beautiful.

I have stared into the face of fallen man,
fallen soul…
I know of actions,
devoid of love,
taken place before even my first breath.
I have looked deep into my heart
to see the same capacity
to become a fallen soul.
Yet I have chosen the difficult path:
that path to love.

I mourn for the angels taken
and I mourn for the fallen man.
I cry when I think of all the good
those angels could have given the world
I cry,
that we could give up on one soul,
because that is the same
as giving up on our capacity to love.

I have seen this horror before,
We all have seen this,
times too many,
before...

Let us mourn,
but let us not hate.

The highest action lies not within vengeance,
or hatred…
The highest action,
is in choosing love.
And the greatest justice comes of understanding.

We have seen this before,
We have all seen this before.

The best way to honor the souls lost,
and all the good they could have given the world,
is to remember them with our sorrows,
but also,
let us strive for the day when we shall not see again,
acts so empty of love.

We can best honor all the broken lives,
by striving for a world,
where love is never forgotten.

_For all the grieving families who lost their angels…
And for the family of Cho Seung-Hui_

 

Very nice poem Eric. Very well written and you bring up very good points. It is too easy to just label him evil. His actions were clearly evil but it doesn't help prevent this from happening again by concluding and ending the conversation with "he is evil."

It would help immensely in preventing acts like this from happening if we could just be nicer to others. However basic and trivial that may sound I believe it's true. Sometimes we are just too quick to insult and harm others without thinking of the ramifications that it may entail.

It may have been too late when someone tried to reach out to Cho. He already closed his heart at that point and it is very unfortunate. Just like similar tragedies, we should strive to learn from them in the hopes that they will not happen again.