Cold meats
Slither in shame
beneath flagrant fingers
pointing judgement for
your discrepancies and differences.
Punish the innocent with Mustard gas
intoxicated throat burn
the sin of being human.
Immortal memories ingrained
within the grey mattered annals of history.
Capsuled with wailing horns
iconoclastic details overlooked.
Slipslide out of memories reach.
Devil is in the detail, so they say.
Cold meat,
bare bone,
blood sacrificed-
shoes thrown.
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This is awful- not your telling of it but that it even happened. You pulled no punches,as it should be given the topic.
There’s one to work a shudder up the spine, and curl the stomach more than a bit…a stark poem for an awful time. Well writ.
And it seems a bit out of place following that, but I wanted to wish you a happy New Year, Shan. May it treat you well!