Loss

Something sinister tells In dark deeds that around us swell And spell a presence drear Demons festering the air Men have grown cold And callous is the norm Of our times And we shrink from it in fear Without anger to say What is being lost is dear Is this silence A sign of some culpability Somthing about human vulnerability We cannot confess again Despite the hell of private pain Is this the holy spirit leaving And we so busy Do not know Cannot know