The Debris of Faith

Tickers scroll past in red-alerted "breakings", smashing screens,
trashing, gutting, gushing blood and spilled debris
when faith... what faith, whose faith?
is a faithless sometime thing --

while the world, numbed, desensitized, no longer horrified
by the blood and the gore and the guts --
watches, shakes an apathetic head, too used to,
now, to such sights, such scenes

while a screaming journalist agonizes for help, clicking
in desperation, the horror, the fear, the helplessness
of a blown-to-bits spot while people, innocent, mostly,
stare fixedly, still wondering for moments and hours

how to wade through
the debris of faith.