Evil

Light is shattered,
and from this wreckage
a million shards tear apart the world.
Innocents suffer,
and even hardened survivors
groan, weeping:
why this evil
amid such sweetness?
The hawk's talons,
the storm's raging
are in us
who yearn for love
even as we play with tools of death.
We would be different, but can not
for fear of the great shadow
over and between us all.
We do not see straight--
blinded, we wish others blind,
fling stones at the demons haunting us,
and cry
at the broken windows of our soul.

--Timothy Haut, Feb. 18, 2016