What Use?

Of what use are the candles
Burning,even if in hundreds
If an angry gust of air
Has will enough to kill them?
                  Of what use are the flames
                  That die with time or wind
                  If a flame not dwells
                  In the souls of those who light?
Of what use is the mourning
Of tears that fill the hearts
Unless any heart had will enough
To stop them,that which made them flow?
                  Of what use are the marchings
                  Of hundreds of feet,worn and sad
                  Unless they march to war ,and not to protest,
                  The anger unheard even by the men who march?
Of what use are the stones
that speak of those who bled so that ours may yet flow
unless we will for a time
when not another stone have to be built?
                  Of what use are the words
                  Angry and sad,yet empty of the will spoken in mind
                  Which finds no way out
                  Unless the lips should part? 
  Of what use are those sheets of paper
  That talk of a dead man’s worth
  Unless life was one of the many things
  That money can buy?
                    Of what use are the flowers
                    Wreaths that wait to wither at the foot of sad stones
                    Unless their stalks should still bear them,
                    The thorns that could bleed our souls of stone?