Gun shots ring on a phone and I turn to see a forest that is probably all too familiar with that sound. With the pulse running with rapid heart beats only to moments later send their last gasps in the cold air. Shrieks of laughter, cries of life and loved ones lost. Absolute fear and terror. Why are we here? Why are they doing this? What have we done?
A click, a fire blast, a bullet army sent into the flesh of purely innocent humans. Their only crime, being a Jewish human and being picked to be hated by a nation under one man.
Once a white and grey field of trees, now a bloody killing field. Where no battle happened, extermination, a cleansing of a people. Massive loss of life and humanity. Terror, a common misunderstood language.
NO way can someone really be doing this to others.
NO HOPE as you stare into the marble eyes of an empty soul, ready to mass execute.
NO coming back,
Ain’t NO sunshine running in loops in my mind.
What can you think in these last evil moments? As you are lined up on the ground, as you are marched to this place? As you are sent to a ghetto and stripped of your job, your livelihood and made to do work to better the shell of a man who has enslaved you. Until the time he decides it is your time to be slain.
How do you find peace, hope? Do you find hope? Could you find hope? Would the silence of the wind in the trees calm you in between rounds of human slaughter?
The crows screeching as they await the flesh, the crunch of the leaves as the lifeless bodies hit their last fall. Do you pray? Does your slaughter get you more riches in your heaven?
White - like the ashes spewing only remains of humans out of tall brown brick chimneys.
Orange - The last flash of color before the red explodes and the grey figures, lifeless, fall before your eyes, before your eyes fall forever.
Red - The patch on the arm of the pure evil that is reigning terror, The rain that is flying through the fields of less than human, Red needed to stop.
Blue - The sky if it could ever show itself, the style of music that told tales of sadness, the soulless eyes of the pure race, the patch on the arm of the hated.
Green - The grass that forgives and forgets, that grows and covers evil, hides the remains for a season, blooms a majestic forest that could tell a different story altogether.
Black - The pupils of the darkest emptiest souls, the jackets holding the patch, the boots marching, the shoes dragging, the dreams of any tomorrow for the hated, the inside of the train cars transporting the families of the hated to their slaughter, the unending unstoppable unthinkable smoke from the chimneys, The future for millions under the hatred.
Memories haunt. When the past is so grim that is all memories are able to do. Evil erases memory in the minds of the evil and the future generations of those who suffered extreme evils.
Farm houses every few kilometers, some may have been a beacon of hope, only to be stomped out by the common evil in Poland.