Listening to: Desert Rose, Sting
Thinking of:
As Petr Solberg spills champagne on his winning car, a mother's tears fall upon the picture of her only daughter who fell to a bullet in Beslan. Next to her, another mother with a picture of 2 of her children, crying asking if anyone has seen them. Around them, as a coffin is lowered into the ground, another hole is being dug up in preperation. The sound of wailing predominant in the atmosphere and tears water the earth of which they stand on.
unidentified woman approaching passers-by in Beslan with a photograph of a girl
"Please can you help? I am looking for this girl. We can't find her in any of the hospitals. Have you seen her, she is my niece? Her name is Medina."
Photographs of those who were too young to be crucified like lambs as an object of negotiation, a price placed on their heads, placed on makeshift tombstones.
*photo by BBC.co.uk*
"In this part of the Caucasus, famed for its longevity of its population, the elderly have found themselves outliving a new generation"
"You never have to see your only children buried in the ground..."
For children who should be pottering about meeting friends on the start of a school term, bright eyed and eager... Beslan has paid the price. Denials and guilt aplenty but what can finger pointing and resignations solve. Could it bring a single life back to a tiny hand?
It could just be just another day, tainted with blood of the innocent... The world makes another revolution, another day.
As for those who've been bribed at borders, blood will stain the money they have in their hands. Yet, strange isn't it... just a couple of days after 2 infamous crashes, nothing more has been said about those.
For we can turn off our televisions to escape these horrors, if only reality could be as easy as an on and off switch. If only life would be a 30 minute sitcom where everything is solved within that time... If only, if only....
Thinking of:
As Petr Solberg spills champagne on his winning car, a mother's tears fall upon the picture of her only daughter who fell to a bullet in Beslan. Next to her, another mother with a picture of 2 of her children, crying asking if anyone has seen them. Around them, as a coffin is lowered into the ground, another hole is being dug up in preperation. The sound of wailing predominant in the atmosphere and tears water the earth of which they stand on.
unidentified woman approaching passers-by in Beslan with a photograph of a girl
"Please can you help? I am looking for this girl. We can't find her in any of the hospitals. Have you seen her, she is my niece? Her name is Medina."
Photographs of those who were too young to be crucified like lambs as an object of negotiation, a price placed on their heads, placed on makeshift tombstones.
*photo by BBC.co.uk*
"In this part of the Caucasus, famed for its longevity of its population, the elderly have found themselves outliving a new generation"
"You never have to see your only children buried in the ground..."
For children who should be pottering about meeting friends on the start of a school term, bright eyed and eager... Beslan has paid the price. Denials and guilt aplenty but what can finger pointing and resignations solve. Could it bring a single life back to a tiny hand?
It could just be just another day, tainted with blood of the innocent... The world makes another revolution, another day.
As for those who've been bribed at borders, blood will stain the money they have in their hands. Yet, strange isn't it... just a couple of days after 2 infamous crashes, nothing more has been said about those.
For we can turn off our televisions to escape these horrors, if only reality could be as easy as an on and off switch. If only life would be a 30 minute sitcom where everything is solved within that time... If only, if only....
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