Do not speak the names of killers.
Let history forget them.
Let us not talk of the causes
For which they claimed to kill.
All their acts were betrayals
All their words were lies.
Let us silence their hatred.
Let our silence be a refusal
Of everything they stood for.
Let us speak of the innocent dead.
The honoured and beloved dead.
Let us name them and remember
The lives they led, the causes they cherished.
Lives greater than their killers aspired to.
Let us share our grief and anger now,
Blaming only the guilty,
Whose names shall be dust.
In time, let us rejoice in the memories
Of those we have loved and lost.
Let us speak the names of healers,
Of helpers and comforters.
Professionals brave in the line of duty.
Let us remember the fortitude of the many,
The courage, integrity and grace,
The best we can be.
Do not speak the names
Of those who discard their humanity
In the name of hatred.
(One of the things I learned while working on When A Pagan Prays, is that prayer itself is sacred expression, and there are no inbuilt assumptions about where it might be directed. You can pray to anything, or anyone, we can pray to each other. That fascinates me.)