I only see you through photographs
Beautiful and majestic
But in a land, distant
Your cries for help fall short
Maybe the ocean drowns them
Swallowing them whole
Like it did, your home
You see, I was only a child
When I learnt to turn a blind eye
To the suffering I couldn’t see
Unaware that the consequences
Of my actions couldn’t see borders
They could fly across the land
And swim across the seas
Taking from you
Everything you’ve known
Your food, your home, your life
All I do now is hope
With every fiber of my being
That you don’t leave
Like many before you
Who have stained my hands crimson
Here I stand, heart heavy from what I can’t undo,
Will you forgive me for the ways I have wronged you?
Disclaimer: Featured image photographed by Paul Nicklen. I claim no copyright on the image, and no copyright violations were intended.
I open my eyes to my mother’s screams
Far away, I hear her crying, screeching
I’m just a baby, should I run to her?
She told me to stay, said I’d be safe
But why is she piercing the sky
With her agonizing wail?
Is she hurt, my mother?
Suddenly, she stops
Dreadful silence all around
I should wait for her to return
But slowly, scared, I tread out
‘Mom?’ I trumpet out
An eerie silence surrounds me
I see her bushy tail, lying on the ground
I found her! I found her!
Maybe she fell down
I run forward, relieved
I run my trunk, playfully over her back
Why won’t she get up?
Why is she so quiet?
I run around to lift her trunk in mine
A horrified scream scares me My horrified scream scares me
All I see are two gaping holes
Where her magnificent tusks once were
And she lies there, cold and lifeless
A pool of blood beneath her
Then I see them, far away
Two creatures rejoicing
The beasts who walk on two legs
My mother warned me about them
I crouch in the bushes, terrified
And I run, and I run
To find the others
Knowing full well,
Now I’m all alone
Hitler has done some awful things for which he does not deserve forgiveness. I was, like every other child, repulsed by the destruction he caused and the lives he had taken. And then I came across this :
“Hitler created laws against animal cruelty”
So I started reading about him. Turns out he loved animals. He was extremely fond of dogs, especially his German Shepherd named Blondi. They seemed inseparable. He adored Blondi and her five puppies.
Okay. So he loved animals, but did not care about human casualties to achieve what he wanted; to do what he thought was right.
I’m in a bit of spot here. That sounds like me. You know the old “I don’t care who dies in a movie as long as the dog lives“. I shed no tears when people die. Because they have to. In fact, I love murder mysteries.
And it doesn’t end here. He suffered from Ailurophobia, the fear of cats. All right, so I don’t have a phobia. But cats scare me. Kittens don’t. But cats, they look evil. Whenever I’m passing by a cat, it looks at me like it will scratch my eyes out if I take a step closer to it. They don’t wag their tails and tell me they’re happy to see me. They just sit there and stare. Menacingly.
What does that mean? Am I Hitler?
But well, he poisoned his dog in the end, so I guess not. Peace.
The finest stories are seldom told first hand, and the best storytellers do not always speak through words. All it takes is a gentle tap into that sweet smile, that silent tear, that thoughtful glance...