BIRKENNAU

We see their grief stricken faces,
although they left long ago.
We hear their desperate voices,
But they speak no more.
The wind brings their stories,
emptying our souls with the breeze of sorrow.

The railway still rattles
And so the distant, dark memory still breathes.
We see their lives, collected in a cabinet
And their whispers draw us closer
We follow their lives, obedient as soldiers to a general
And we listen, as their voices pierce our hearts.

We remember the darkness of the days,
So vividly we forget what is now.
We walk the steps beyond deathly imagination
Breathing their last breaths as our own
We follow the desterted paths, shrouded in mystery
Tempting questions, which have answers lost in time.

The reality of their fate,
Dawns on us,
Only as we leave,
With their memories
Etched into our skin
Forever.


©Madeleine Farnworth