Post by Icor on Nov 12, 2005 2:48:11 GMT -4
I remember when I closed my eyes at night to sleep,
Though the sun illuminates the rolling gray sky,
I take the day to weep.
And I wish I could fly out on the wings of those I loved,
But every word is without a soul, and without a mouth,
And they pool up in the earth,
Leeching to the feet of the blind,
And absorbed into the very heart of man, and birth,
Taking all hopes to a wicked place I will not find.
Those dreams die in cages built by indoctrination,
Propaganda, selfishness, and I am to suffer all,
All forms of persecution, misery, and intoxication,
Allowing my body to wrinkle like paper in the flames of imperialism,
Where every familiar face loses half of its expressions,
Forgetting what it was, spitting out what it does,
Taking up the horns of Lucifer and choking out confessions,
Segregating peoples, and imposing dark lessons.
The scars of my flesh fade unlike the invisible scars of my spirit,
And vouch for nothing but my outcast flag,
From infant to youth to completion, only now I fear it,
The cold bite of change, all companions revert to mental slag,
Where I am left alone in a defeating beam of light,
Stared at by riveted, rolled-back eyes and gnashing teeth,
Draining me of my strength and my struggle to fight,
Beating me of my life and replacing it with a mass of decorations,
Willing to proclaim me to a nameless, hateful race,
To which everyone outside has stripped themselves of a pleasant face.
Though the sun illuminates the rolling gray sky,
I take the day to weep.
And I wish I could fly out on the wings of those I loved,
But every word is without a soul, and without a mouth,
And they pool up in the earth,
Leeching to the feet of the blind,
And absorbed into the very heart of man, and birth,
Taking all hopes to a wicked place I will not find.
Those dreams die in cages built by indoctrination,
Propaganda, selfishness, and I am to suffer all,
All forms of persecution, misery, and intoxication,
Allowing my body to wrinkle like paper in the flames of imperialism,
Where every familiar face loses half of its expressions,
Forgetting what it was, spitting out what it does,
Taking up the horns of Lucifer and choking out confessions,
Segregating peoples, and imposing dark lessons.
The scars of my flesh fade unlike the invisible scars of my spirit,
And vouch for nothing but my outcast flag,
From infant to youth to completion, only now I fear it,
The cold bite of change, all companions revert to mental slag,
Where I am left alone in a defeating beam of light,
Stared at by riveted, rolled-back eyes and gnashing teeth,
Draining me of my strength and my struggle to fight,
Beating me of my life and replacing it with a mass of decorations,
Willing to proclaim me to a nameless, hateful race,
To which everyone outside has stripped themselves of a pleasant face.
This is about a jewish woman who married a german long before 1940. As they lived, her husband joined the Nazi army and slowly, through years of on-and-off seeing her between months away, lost is love for her due to Hitler's speaches and frequently beat her. As she kept scars, she was not tended to or cared for by locals of her village, and ended up killing herself. Her husband never found out.
For the record, this is historical fiction. I don't know if any of this happened, though it very well could have. I'm not trying to be racist either, but in fact displaying why it is so terrible.