Europe, and particularly Italy, is being inundated by waves of Muslim refugees fleeing the Sunni/Shia civil war, so many that European countries are abandoning the policy of compassion and are now denying the refugees entrance by destroying the boats and ships before they can be loaded. Mercy and compassion are private things, not to be entered into lightly by nations, for whom the well-being of their own people is the first consideration, particularly when the refugees are of a different culture and worldview from your own. Otherworld refugees from violent and bloody war carry their otherworld culture with them as well as all the trauma of that violent and bloody dislocation, and often carry the plagues of war with them as well. Thus, after accepting the first wave of otherworld refugees into the country out of compassion, straining the hosts’ resources and patience, allowing boatloads of successive waves of otherworld, other culture refugees to wander the seas in futile search for succor is not a criminal act, but one of self-preservation. Self-preservation works both ways, and once it becomes clear that no one will take in any more, they will no longer board the boats, but will stay in place and wait it out, as most have done throughout history, for people do not willingly leave the land of their fathers, do not willingly abandon the bones of their ancestors. No war has ever lasted forever, and no people has ever been permanently homeless.

The quality of mercy is not strained
At least this many years sayeth the Bard
But mercy once dissolved is not regained
Though consciences may take the loss quite hard
What can you do when millions clamor out
For succor and for just the chance to live
When one’s compassion then begins to doubt
And giving all is more than one can give
The history of mankind is quite clear
That murder and destruction will not cease
The dispossessed forced from their land held dear
To wander and to wonder if there’s peace
A place where kindly strangers take them in
And see their wives and children taken care
Knowing that their one and only sin
Was being in a place when war was there
But when the first small stream becomes a flood
And refugees pile up before the gate
It’s when the stream turns red with flowing blood
That doors are closed and then it is too late
For mercy is at most at private thing
A nation cannot risk its peoples’ lives
Allowing in the plagues the migrants bring
The plagues that follow all when war arrives