a prayer for the victims

The qassam rockets fly over the town of Sderot
Let them fall where they may; make people fear and pray
As they run away. Terror has its way.
"How do we make them stop?"

The environment becomes more toxic as
Hatred fills the air. Stop. Stop. Stop.
The more the hatred in Sderot, the more the joy in Azza.
"We have given them their just deserts."

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not with us,
We have been punished, we have been mistreated,
we have been tortured, we are the victims
Acting out, striking at our persecutors."

"Revenge is our just reward."
"Give the bastards the treatment they deserve."
"Bring out the army."
"More powerful rockets! Bombs!"

Am I alone in believing with the rabbis
That good deeds parent good deeds,
That terror begets terror
That war is the mother of war?

"You are unrealistic."
Yet a show of strength has never worked.
"They don't deserve to live."
Do you think that it is good to gather body pieces for burial?

"The criminals don't deserve to live."
Who speaks for harmony? Who believes
That trust is possible, that there can be a miracle?
Not blood for blood, but a thriving society?

My optimism has been crushed by the stones of false hopes
Is the desolation perhaps god's revenge?
Can I believe in the power of man not to be deceived
By the attraction of land? "This land is my land."

A small still voice calls over
Smaller than mine
"Land too is a false prophet."
"All the land is Mine to give, to take, to desolate."

Who will listen?