Poetry For and From the Soul

What's Wrong?

***Ok, so for my (pre)AP class, we're reading Night by Elie Wiesel. I felt the need to do a sort of tribute in the form of a poem to this sad and tragic event. It's unbelievable the horrors these people went through on a daily basis. And, actually, at that time my family WAS Jewish, but I think they were in Scotland. I know people on my dad's side were either in Slovakia or Germany, but there were no Jews over there (in my family, obviously)...So either Romania or Scotland/Ireland for my Jewish family. Dunno. But still feel the need to write this. Part of the poem I actually wrote a month ago, but I feel it fits and so I would like to use it anyway. (Originally I had just posted it on the poetry forum (yes I do post on forums))***

What's Wrong? 

There was an aura of mystery, and a battle of might,

There was the power of history, and the fear of the light,

There was the battle of misery, and the feeling of plight.

There was the pain of inquiry, and the horror of being right.

The hours meshed into sadness, and the tears fell like rain.

The days meshed into madness, and the hopes had gone down the drain.

The weeks turned hapless, and the wins were in vain.

The months turned to blackness, and the unanswered questions still remain.

Nobody thought it would turn to this, for they were never quite wrong.

Nobody thought it would go so amiss, or that it would drag out so long.

Nobody thought of the people they miss, for fear they would never belong.

Nobody saw a reason to reminisce, after the day had become only a sad song.

And the salvation came at last, and death's sweet kiss was their new belief.

And when they were asked, they said they no longer feel the grief.

And even though they were outcast, the world held more relief.

And after the end had passed, their minds held nothing more than disbelief.

There was the ending of inquiry, and the emptyness of being right.

There was the harmony of misery, with the peace of plight.

There was the loss of history, and the surrender to the light.

There was no more mystery, for they had all lost their fight.