|
|
The "Gestapo" took away their human trophies in chains, their fates unknown to us. Their worldly possessions were scattered and brusquely packed -- a sure indicator that they have entered the ranks of "the missing" -- i.e. those of use that we never again hear from. We cower in silence -- fearing that this harvest of flesh is not yet complete -- our minds silenced by the somatic knowledge of "their" capacity for cruelty and horror. We have all died a little more (some more than others) in the face of our helplessness. Within the darkness of our collective despair, sometimes the razor edge of fear is all that remains. Dreaded fear, hated fear -- a fear that is the progeny of pure evil -- sometimes, it is all that reminds us that we are still alive. Sometimes, I'd rather embrace death than live another day engulfed in this fear. But I must endure, for I know we must strive to extinguish this evil that seeks to destroy us all. |
|
| P.S. As in most situations, especially in prison, our fate is not entirely in our own hands. I know not the outcome of this "witchhunt." How many people will "they" unjustly harm before "they" relent (if it is possible for "them" to yield prior to grievous and irreparable harm being done to as many innocents as possible)? As does anyone with a sense of our lot as prisoners, I fear for my safety at the hands of our keepers. These could be my last words for a while -- I just don't know! None of us do! |
