We Know Its Meaning

She once told me about their rhythmic staccato marches,
How the sound echoed from those monsters that surrounded her world;
Becoming her nightmare.

They stood over her like skyscrapers,
All in starched uniforms and equipped guns,
That fire into the night and through all the screams.

She can still recall how they would bark out orders in a crude language,
Spitting out venom, threatening with their snake-like tongues,
Making her people march towards their unenviable fate...

"Left, right! Left, right, left! Move!"

The young one can still hear their staggering feet,
Hear the whimpers and the reassurances from those destined,
Knowing that they are knocking on death's door.

She can still be held as a witness to seeing those people,
Her people; as they were shoved into the door of the unknown,
The entry that leads to the web created by those monsters.

"Left, right! Left, right,death! Death!"

Thinking back, she bears those moments when she would look towards the sky,
Seeing birds flying free overhead; becoming liberal spirits,
Contrasting against the foul smoke seeping from below.

Recollections of working from dusk till dawn,
Devoid of seeing a time to play; beleaguered her mind with doubts,
Just like the other 11 year olds who are part of the monster's plan.

She still has reminiscence of the Yellow Stars,
Known to children as figures in the night sky that brings hopes and dreams,
Being sewn onto her clothes like a secret death sentence.

Tears fall on her cheeks, revealing the fear of the young and the innocent,
As well as the plaguing question in the back of her mind;
"When will the nightmare end?"

That's what she always questioned while she walked through her ghetto,
Proving the true terrors that humanity can create,
That human hands can afflict pain upon their own.

She still remembers you know,
When her life was used as a statement;
A plan created by her demons, the Nazis.

Yet she looks back at those remembrances,
Giving them a mocking smile,
Knowing that she had won the battle by a mile.

Yes she suffered brutality,
Yes she saw loved ones turn into empty shells and perish,
Yes she almost let her hopes die.

But she now stands with her soul intact,
Being able to go through life until she was creased and gray,
Having her nightmare end with the vengeance it deserved.

Because now she is known as a survivor; a mentor; a keeper.
Keeper of the memories of the time when humanity lost their wits,
When they turned against each other in order to gain dominance... to gain power.

She is now one with our history,
Interwoven with a harsh time and a painful truth,
Becoming the product of humanity's mistake.

Even with her tattooed insignia branding her skin,
She stands with valor; with optimism,
Knowing that she has won against her terrors.

Because once you live in from an experience that changed history,
When you can tell your granddaughter the story of your life,
You realize you're on top of the world.

She knows the meaning of life's destiny,
Just like I know the meaning of her survival,
We now know the meaning of it all.