I am a man of Poland, man in a land invaded. <br />I am but content, that my house has not been raided. <br /> <br />I walk up, to my silent home, why does my wife ignore me. <br />I see my wife and son dead on the floor before me. <br />JEW, JEW, on the wall in blood like a damned profanity <br />I look in fear at the madness and insanity. <br /> <br />Two months I have walked the earth and no relief I have yet found. <br />One day, I saw soldier push a Rabbi to the ground. <br />He sees the symbol on my neck and puts the rifle to my head. <br />I now know he wants to make me like the poor Rabbi, Dead. <br />I wrestle him and put his own bullet through his Heart. <br />He writhes in pain and hit the dirt, like a twisted work of art. <br /> <br />I know and fear that in hell, I shall soon sit. <br />But I am more surprised that I was good at it. <br />So that day, I sold my soul to the dark. <br />And longer can I walk amongst, the free and lark. <br /> <br />The kraut soldier walks down the street, I crouch down in the Dairy. <br />He gets a bullet through his head, first to fall to the Mercenary.<br /><br />Aidan Ross<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/birth-of-despair/
