Words soft spoken drown the cries of Six.
Monsters sleeve a twisted cross, execute hope. Hope?
What hope is left when rays of strife outshine those of life?
The doubt of God, fear of night.
Six skeletons walk to the Light. Aware, but not scared.
Just nothing. Empty.
Was hope left behind along with dignity, pride?
Pride was buried with bones, Six feet deep.
Six million weep, all Six put to sleep.
But we all were numb. Mute.
Mouths wizened by apathy.
A shadow cast, eclipsing the sun; the Light.
Sympathy shown, but worn like cloaks,
They vesture pity, mask.
Six questions asked, yet no answer.
Six prayers. Six souls.
Six million.
Six.
Author notes
This poem is about WWII and the Holocaust. I also wanted to touch on the indifference shown throughout the war by bystanders in other nations.
A contest entry
- Write a modern classic war poem. by BabyBun.
700 points, ended February 26, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Very strong and stirring writing - thanks and good luck
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You have a very intense style.
of course this subject should be intense.
Very profound impact here. Well done.
Delila
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wow this made me shudder at the indefference, that number "6" was so powerful in this piece it really made the reality sting like a slap in the face at the end, best of luck in the contest
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