Unfinished Prayer: Holocaust

There are some survivors,
their heads are bent,
there are some mourners,
their voices low.

The crowd now silent,
forwards, backwards,
to the left and right,
But a few men enter my sight.

I turn and pray,
quite at a loss,
of what to say.

Yet inspiration comes,
and the prayer I proclaim,
flows forth from my lips:

"Blessed art Thou,
O Lord..."

And from the front,
I hear a sigh,
and from the back,
someone cry.

I continue my prayer:

"Blessed art Thou,
Lord God of the universe,
Who, in Your wisdom,
Hath chosen them from amongst the nations,
To segregate them,
And Who, in Your mercy,
Hath turned them over to their enemies,
Brought them to be hated,
persecuted, mistreated, and abused,
Blessed art Thou,
For they lack nothing from persecution.
Amen."

And those at the front,
and those at the back,
and those at the left,
and those to the right,
are silent still.

"Blessed art Thou"
I continue to pray
"Who embodies mercy,
and hath caused these few men
to see their mothers, fathers,
brothers, sisters, daughters and sons,
be slaughtered in front of them,
Amen!"

And my plea though not longer,
became stronger,
And as I whispered it,
a boulder had been lifted,
from upon my shoulder.

"Blessed art Thou"
My lips said now,
"Who caused them to plunder,
Throw Your people asunder,
And plunge us into wonder..."
And here i stopped,
for it had begun to thunder,
the rain had filled the air,
and shame my heart,
for this ungodly prayer.

Yet whilst the rain
drilled the ground,
i remembered that sound,
the making of guns.

The sobbing stopped,
my heart throbbing,
aching,
remembering those days,
the makings of man.
Yet acknowledge,
Those days have gone, for now.