Dragged out of bed in the middle of night,
Rough hands, rifle butts and glaring torch light,
Orders barked, Alsatians barely leashed, 
Venom and hate glint in their eyes,
Parents cry, semi frozen with fear,
They know what comes next, 
These harpies of hell are harbingers of tears,
Children dazed, tousled hair, cling to dear toys,
Know not what comes next, 
… only the end of innocence for them.

Thrown on the street, prodded together like cattle or sheep,
What madness drives this blood lust escapade:
Did I not used to mend your shoes?
Did we not play in the brook, share dreams together when launching our stick ships?
We are not so different you and I,
For the sake of god look me in the eye, 
Don’t shy away and your conscience try and salve,
We’re all god’s creatures, is it not written in our books? 

Reason is dead, the rational well poisoned, madness stalks the land,
The canker grows, all are swept up; no one dares stand against the rising tide,
Better him than me,
Neighbours we were, but that was then,
A terrible metamorphosis is the end. 


The lucky ones have a high view,
They see the surge far out at sea,
Wealthy, connected or crystal balls read,
They slip out in the dead of night,
Clutching scant belongings; only what can be carried in hasty flight,
Ancestral homes are left behind … dinners still warm,
A leap into the darkness, hoping to find light,
Decency waits … maybe … on a far foreign shore, 
But to save your life, for a fate that is poor.