Bad... and sad: Beslan dead were forgotten

École Polytechnique. Columbine. Oklahoma City. WTC. Beslan.

They all share 2 things.

Death. Innocents.
News at the time it happend. Slogans after the last funeral.

Once, they were people. Faces. Living, thinking entites of flesh, blood, sinew, brain matter.

Now, they're statistics. Numbers. Details.

Once, we mourned for them. All future plans permanently put on hold or cancelled indefinitely.

Tears flowed. Teeth gnashed. Vendettas were sworn. Eulogies were read.

Now, we stare at those statistics. All nameless. All faceless.

Who were these children of the steppes and the mountains? What were their names? What did they dream to be when they grow up and out of school? What were they planning on doing on that day?

We may never know.

All we know is that they're gone, victims of fanaticism, miltancy, hatred and greed.

And all those "martyrs"... what use is a dead person for the cause except as an empty slogan for an empty belief system?

I used up all my tears too many time to mourn for the innocents, if only because they've all gone to a better life. One that transcends matter, energy, flesh and spirit.

And yet I grieve. Just because.

Silenced laughter. Stilled smiles. A sense of wonder replaced by primal fear of the unknown and the unfathomable.

I grieve. I mourn. Yet I cannot lay vengeance against an entity single-minded enough to destroy itself for an empty cause.

All the hate, all the venom cannot get these children back, but they can stop the madness and keep the savage automatons from taking more lives, more souls for a fairy-tale dream.

And yet, I wish to smite one blow against this enemy. Just this once.

Once and for all.

Just once.