Silent Holocaust

Your birth,
a blood bath,
in a stainless steel
dish.

Plucked from the
warmth of your
mother's womb.

They snapped your spine
and crushed
your skull,
delivered you,
dismembered.

Fragile fetus,
culled from your cocoon,
clenched
in killer's claws.

Your birth-cry,
will never flood
the room.

The giant Oak,
will never
shade your slumber.

Zero, zero,
vital signs.
Today
I felt
a heartbeat.

I crossed
your route
from womb
to tomb.

In secret,
I baptised you.

In The Name of
The Father,
The Son,
The Holy Spirit.

I brought you to
your resting place.

Your coffin,
a glass jar.
Your epitaph,
bio-waste.
Your burial ground,
Incinerator.

We thought
The Holocaust
had ended.