They are treated as mere numbers of human consequence,
dotted ubiquitously on the front pages of tabloids and newspapers.
They are figures that scatter my article weekly-
seemingly just another number that the eyes will so casually scan over.
Sometime later, they will become estimates-
the figure too large to even remember,
that one slowly and steadily begins to lose an account.
They will then go down in all the books,
which children of the future will ponder upon- like you and me.
Forty million, Six Million, Eighty- five million, Eight- hundred thousand, four- hundred thousand-
The Mongol questions, Third Reich, World War II, Vietnam, and Syria,
the vicious cycle grows ever more volatile and consuming.
The sheer scale soon become ranges-
it’s gamut too large to account for all the departed.
We make death tangible,
to chronicle history and human plague.
As the years rush past,
those casualties seem to be almost like a pitiful vigil for the dead.
You may wipe a teary eye, sigh, or write about it like I do.
Those casualties are just numbers and figures,
that embolden the growing perversion and purgatory-
the distortion and taint that is humanity.