Soldier of Remorse | Teen Ink

Soldier of Remorse

March 8, 2012
By Anthony Arena BRONZE, Cumming, Georgia
Anthony Arena BRONZE, Cumming, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Why is this happening?
There was no warning of this.

All around me,
the stench of rotting corpses,
the sunken in cheeks of starved prisoners.

No, prisoners are treated better.
This is a zoo,
a zoo filled with malnourished skeletons.

Shredded stars litter the ground.
Children scamper about,
some limping,
some crawling,
many lay motionless,
without a pulse.

None of them care.
Or do they?
They stand at attention day and night,
With their medals and patches gleaming.
What have they accomplished to acquire them?
I've seen none of them commit acts worth reward.

And yet I stand my post, just as they do.
But I am not heartless,
I am not sadistic nor do I feel this is right.
But I cannot refuse an order,
I cannot have pity on the captives.
They would send me to the chambers amongst the walking dead.

The chambers are the best I suppose.
“Come take a shower”,
They lure the wretches in.
Desperate for anything pleasurable they follow,
Nothing to live for but survival.
No clothes,
No homes,
No sanity anymore.
Into the showers they trudge.

The valve is turned and they receive their reward,
Death must be a welcome friend.
Surely I'd die rather than be as they are.
Surely I'd crumple in a day.
No food,
No water,
No joy of any kind,
Surely this isn't what was meant.

They said it was nothing,
A little round up of criminals.
I tell you this is nothing little,
And of real criminals I've seen few.

This place could bring a saint to theft,
Some will murder for scraps of food.
“A bite of bread is what I need,
Or else I'll take a bite of you.”

Savages they have become,
But not by religion,
Nor culture,
Nor men.
These people have been sent to Hell,
Can they make it back again?

I pray daily for their liberation,
though my equals would have me killed.
The Wolf claims he is ethical and religious,
Yet I've seen otherwise from these places.
Are not all men created equal?
No matter color,
Beliefs,
Or appearance.
Why then must they suffer,
So terribly at our hands?

Why must they be put to death for no crime of any measure?
We murder,
And torture,
And so much worse,
Yet the innocent are punished first.

Here on Earth they suffer,
Here on Earth they cry,
Here on Earth you see them wither,
Until at last they die.


Who of them has kept their faith?
Who of them has not given up?
It is they who will be the victors,
When judgement day arrives.
For on that day,
Our sins are weighed.
And for my sins,
I accept my fate,
But please,
Know that I cried.



I cried for those whom I had to hate,
Whom I had never met.
I cried for those who were pulled away,
Their loved ones sure to die.
I cried most of all for those who worked,
Those who carried out our bidding,
Those who stayed strong at the gates of Hell,
And I hope they never entered.

I cried because they finally fell,
After their flow of efforts ran dry.
They died without a reason,
Without knowledge that in just hours,
They would be free of this place,
Their false sentence at last paid.

The liberators swept in,
With flags of red and blue,
The diseased slaves who survived so long,
Finally were through.
The wicked captors however,
Were now the imprisoned crew.

We deserved much worse I knew,
For all that we had done.
They should have beat us till we were dead,
Now that they had won.

But now we rot sitting in a jail,
Until our death finally comes.
I hope it comes slowly,
With pain,
And suffering,
We deserve this for our sin.

Now we're shunned by the world,
For our twisted attacks.
A permanent stain on the flag,
of yellow, red, and black.

The author's comments:
I wrote this when I was reading about the Holocaust in lit class. It made me think about how a lot of the Germans and Nazis were probably just doing their jobs out of fear.

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