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The Sacrifice of Souls
Several times I have tried to forget the faces
of masked men surrounding my house with knives.
They used these weapons to cut up the souls and
the sheets that wrapped the bloody lives.
A senseless act with no reason at all.
I guess they had nothing else to do that day,
But leave me with an open wound
and the memory of how my parents died that way..
I watched from a short distance, across the hall to be exact.
Not speaking a word, they worked in armies of five, in fact.
With a plan that worked like a dance around the room.
One chopped, one held, one laughed, one looked on,
and one looked out.
They were on one accord, no remorse, no gloom
Trimbling lips and tear stained faces,
lay silently on the floor.
Covered in mothers blood,and Fathers flesh
I watched in terror from behind the door.
I dare not scream or breathe an extra breath,
until they are gone, until they have left.
Then quickly I run to call, the officer of justice,
to no avail of my own.
Devastated and in shock, my only loved ones are gone.
The deed is done and the game is over,
but in my head it lives on and on.
I remember the screams,and the smell of the blood
as if it were branded inside of me.
And I will never forget the souls who sacrificed their lives
so I could live, and grow and be.
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