Oh, the dreadful agony, like that of inconsolable
grief, in frightful sorrow felt,
When lives are suddenly taken away, by the
wretched hand, that fate has delt.
Living freedoms lovely dreams, then suddenly, an
evil power, changes the route,
Leaving mothers in a state of flux, with the
painful torment, of constant doubt.
Hearts crying out, eyes wrung dry, locked behind
barricades, in the awful chaos,
Forcefully caged, as the torture of separation
grew into, the heartache of loss.
Petrified parents begging, imploring, arguing,
pleading for their infants return,
Distraught mothers, feeling powerless, not
knowing what to do, full of concern.
The poor women anxiously wondering if, they will
ever see their children again,
Fearing the worst for their precious infants, so
vulnerable within the evil feign.
Emotions, too difficult to describe, inherent
pain, with hopeless desolation left,
Like a mordant parasite, gnawing at their wits,
ridden in awful sadness bereft.
But, what the harmless children, the vulnerable
victims, of these despicable crimes,
Afflicted with traumatic stress, that keeps
repeating, overwhelming their minds.
Tiny children, with eyes full of fear, who
anxiously watched their mothers begging,
Little arms reaching out, terrified toddlers
screaming, collective hysteria spreading.
Defenceless little children roughly taken; poor
petrified kids, helpless innocent prey.
Sorted and separated, like stock being drafted,
bundled into buses, and stolen away,
Their precious tears shed, at the unpleasant
parting, strange feelings fixed inside,
Sobbing uncontrollably, choking back the streams
of tears, as they cried, and cried.
Frightened little faces, stuck to bus windows,
the infants too young to know why,
Watching the awful visions, of their mothers
being pushed back, making them cry.
Awful Orc soldiers fuelling fearsome thoughts,
what would happen to their mums?
The brutal beasts, terrorizing vulnerable women,
yelling orders, pointing their guns.
Kids, the spoils of war crimes, off to Orc camps
to be recalibrated, and retrained,
Brainwashed in the wicked Orcish ways, to live in
the land, tarnished and stained.
Mother tongue expunged, now constantly watched,
by the wicked all-seeing eye,
In the state of unknowing, the land of propaganda
and lies, friend, foe, or spy?
The children’s culture and past deleted, in
re-education camps, new names given,
False lives made, taught to mistrust and hate,
their maternal country now riven.
Older children, brothers and sisters separated,
told that their parents are dead,
Made to feel like heartbroken orphans, placed in
strange homes, and poorly fed.
Fostered and adopted, subjected to threats and
abuse, by their proxy handlers,
Living in cold barracks and dorms, time strictly
regulated, by surrogate soldiers.
On foreign soil, in foreign hands, a new set of
rules, living their lives, out of skew,
Resonant memories, of their beloved mothers
unspoken, another forbidden taboo.
Written By:
Alan.Clark@WW1POET (August
2023)
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