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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I left her behind emaciated I left her dying I left her I left her I wanted to die there with her there in the desert where I left my mother there where the stench of the dead and the dying filled the air I left her my other children dragging me on the solders shouting threatening..theatening I had to go on...for the others I left her my little girl who was too weak to speak too weak to cry my little girl whom I smothered knowing it would be quick not wanting night to call the animals to crawl over her still living body not wanting her to hear the death wail of the old and frail all around I smothered her and kept on walking not hearing not seeing not smelling not living not breathing I left her I left my heart I left my dreams I left my tomorrow and every yesterday every memory every hope of a better day I left her and in that starless night there in the desert naked and bleeding starving shivering I knew.... "the rest is silence." Eileen Manassian "The Rest is Only Silence" is from Shakespeare's Play...Hamlet. I, however, will not be silent about the Armenian Genocide. This is in memory of the 1.5 million Armenians who lost their lives in the Genocide of 1915.Though this is a fictitious write, the events depicted did happen during the Armenian Genocide in 1915 by the Ottoman Turks. One million and a half Armenians were marched into the desert in what has come to be known as the Death March. My mother's family were fortunate. They were able to run away in time. They relocated to Lebanon. My mother was a refugee at 14 years of age. She and her two sisters suffered poverty and had to work hard to make a living for the family. Their fate could have been worse. April 24 marks 101 years since that event. Not all countries have recognized the genocide. Unfortunately, America is one of them. If you want to read an account of those days, read The Sandcastle Girls. Read of how woman were tied to stakes as the soldiers rode past on their horses and decapitated them. Read of how the orphaned children were gathered at night and put in caves and burned alive. Read of how the woman marched naked...their wounds festering, their hair matted...almost inhuman. Read of how women committed suicide rather suffer rape while others disfigured themselves to go unnoticed. History cannot deny the genocide. If justice is not served here...it will be....one day. God told Cain..."the blood of your brother Abel is crying out to me." The blood of these martyrs cries out today for recognition.
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