Auschwitz (poetry)

     This poem was just written a few weeks back and will be included in my Honor's Thesis which is Creative Nonfiction and hopefully when finished in December will be published.  

My we never forget

 

Europe's outcasts viciously sleep

Begging God for their souls

What a horrendous thing - to wake the following day

Realizing freedom is now transported away

Into ghettos they walk in a communal custody

They lied

In the coldness, Auschwitz’s mouth is opening wide.

Is there a God in Heaven

If so show us your great authority!

Why must we plunge into abyss

Of a concentration camp

To be rendered our souls

By Auschwitz’s great might

They are interred - day and night.

Oh, Auschwitz, Auschwitz, Your devastation is so wide -

The unknowing drove in, ignorant of what's inside.

Run ...Run for your very lives!

You've been brought to The Executioner- and few survive.

It is easy to swallow these us whole -

Effectively you murder body and soul

Directly from the trains - rushed through your doors...

As Ghettos are cleared, you’re straining for more.

Auschwitz you seem hidden away

As your soil turns red with blood

Is there anyone to stop you

Something must be done

Or there will remain not one.

Auschwitz chimneys bursting with the wafting burn

Human remains gusting in the air are churned

Swirling dead who inhabit thoughts of remembrance

Abandoned in our vacant painful trance

Dug pits hidden beyond the eyes of God

Auschwitz endures only if no one sees

Covered over by Them,

So that no one would envision this place

To hide what was done –

What of us remains is barely a trace.

The demonic Nazis smile,

Trying to attract and hypnotize.

It is not so hard to mislead the trusting masses

Could God really be giving these us up to die?

Guiltless weeping eyes having to say “Good bye"

We think it's ended

 "...it is resolved, it is over”

We want to believe they screamed their last cries

Listen carefully, and you will hear the vibration,

Of Auschwitz’s faint heartbeat, beneath the soil

In our weakness we call

The criminals ‘Them” and “They”

Are our souls so distinctive and fearless

That we'd have arose and stood in the way?