For the Living, From the Dead
This poem came from that moment, not as a statement or defense, but as an outpouring of grief and confusion.
By Anonymous
I wrote this poem on the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated.
Without meaning to, I opened a video and watched a father fall, an activist being shot, the crowd both cheering and screaming.
It was a moment that left me shattered. This poem came from that moment, not as a statement or defense, but as an outpouring of grief and confusion. It was my way of trying to understand what was happening to us.
In a time of noise and division, I needed to stop and name what I saw: a country hurting, people forgetting the worth of a single human life. I kept thinking about what seeds we’re planting and what kind of harvest might follow.
I hope this piece helps us reflect on more than one life lost. I hope it calls us to guard the dignity of every person, in our words, in our institutions, and in the public square we all share.
For the Living, From the Dead
There was cheering and hollering—
an enemy’s dead!
Was it a gun in his hand,
or the words that he said?
None of it matters now,
but his children were watching.
Is the enemy gone,
or a father departing?
The question grows heavier:
what does it start?
A cycle of war,
or a change of the heart?
See, that is the trouble,
what makes it unclear:
Is the difference red and blue,
or is it grief and fear?
Grief for a patriot,
lowered to rest?
Or fear for a lifetime
of hatred confessed?
The grave will be hollowed,
the heavens grow cold—
what greater battle
has this evil foretold?
Or is there some hope
in this pain and this loss,
that we might come together
for a future forgot?
That we might set aside differences
and humbly say:
That we mourn with the grieving,
and for you we shall pray.
We lift our hearts to God
in memory of husband, father, friend—
we pray for this hatred,
for this violence, to end.
We pray for our enemies,
whichever banner they may choose,
for each has a right
to be red or be blue.
Was that not the purpose—
that all may be heard?
I know a man
who paid the highest price for his words.
What consequences will we reap?
What example have we set?
That if one dares speak boldly,
they may fall instead,
condemned by the truth
of the words they had said.
Can we not refuse a world
where truth is only for the dead?
Among brothers, citizens,
companions, and friends—
shall we recall our bond,
or let hatred extend?
And from a grave resounds
a voice of old weight:
one who suffered the same
speaks truth to our fate:
“Darkness cannot scatter darkness;
only light makes it flee.
And hatred cannot conquer hatred;
only love makes us free.”
Of all that was spoken,
let this be heard:
The battle is not against
neighbor or friend,
but only in how
we choose for this story to end.
READ MORE: Charlie Kirk, RIP: Christian, Father, Friend to Democracy
READ MORE: Charlie Kirk: An Education in Truth
READ MORE: Charlie Kirk & The Great Awakening
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed are those of the writer alone and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Grove City College, the Institute for Faith and Freedom, or their affiliates.
Cover Image: Photo by Flickr Wikimedia Commons (License) (Cropped)