there are dozens of them throughout eastern europe

i haven’t seen them with my own eyes

i’ve only felt them in my dreams

rough, rude gashes slashed in overgrown forests

mute monuments to the inhumanity of man

wastelands that pollute the soul

~

grey flakes cling to my toes

barren and lifeless like the ashes that tumbled from the sky

as chimneys choked and the blazing night sky faded to black

rusty remnants of barbed wire

rotting remains frozen in wordless admonition

guard towers stand like impotent sentries with no-one left to watch

~

these wastelands echo throughout infamy

memorials loom around their crumbling perimeters

lists of the lost in numbers that numb the mind

some feature misshapen sculptures

twisted stone silhouettes of torture

shrieking in silent agony and begging for release

~

standing here all alone in my dreams

the cold wind assaults me and a chill creeps over my flesh

their blood cries out from the soil

demanding vengeance

pleading for remembrance

weeping inconsolably for all that was lost