Means to an end

I see the tired in the corner of your 
Eyes
Maybe catch a tear but I'm not certain
What I'm certain of you know that I know
That you've cast the spell before 
you left
this earth
That safety is not to be found in the
destruction of Brown lives, of Black lives
That each life so taken 
is like energy consumed by a hurricane
as it gathers strength.
The truth.
A system of safety
they call it policing and law
and 
Order
An order that only recognizes the 
sanctity of white life 
as the only
life worth preserving
You witnessed how safety is built upon the destruction
Unceasing
of Black life 
A curse uttered against our gods
and they are counting down the seconds
Safety provided by the eradication of Indigenous life
Of all those Muscogee burned, of those Vietnamese women 
who pleaded for their children
Of the uncounted who were just on journey to 
their own land
Of a Black boy who played with a toy
We all know this must end
You've seen all the myriad ways it ends
You, communing with old souls now
Know that we'll have to pick the means to the end

-- A poem for Adam Toledo and the other uncountable victims of a global police state