(who was kept in the GULAG for nearly 20 years)
The day he was set free
after eighteen years of prison and slavery
there was no joy
nothing in which he could employ.
He merely felt empty.
Every moment he’d lived up to this day,
had with his health to pay
for the defeat of tempting resignation.
He’d written against his mind’s starvation.
Now he had nothing to say.
True – he at last had survived,
was no longer of freedom deprived.
Yet there was left no strong feeling.
To himself he was revealing
he at his weakness connived.
For what he vehemently had fought,
what he had dreamt of and thought,
today was no longer of weight,
caused no desire or hate.
He felt, he already forgot.
The long torturing years
had killed his future and fears.
His life meanwhile had been lived by others.
Voices, no longer those of brothers
seemed meaningless noise in his ears.
© I. Beddies
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Irene Beddies.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 04.10.2016.