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Drawn to the graves

Unbeknown clarity develops like root canal treatment
festering wounds and scull bones loom on the route

In reason and feeling I have no choice but to venture
an ancient drill grinds away carbon in my father’s grave

Gravity certainty narrative German post war collective
guilt betrayal crimes against humanity ‘we only followed’

Orders commands yet propagated propaganda and demise
a generation later my prerogative to look away falls by

The wayside on the path to Auschwitz the stench the cries
train tracks total war extinction ‘Lebensraum’ final solution

My officer dad a cog in the wheel just a soldier or willing
perpetrator and I too am getting longer in the tooth of time

‘What did you do what did you not’ and on a map in the
cellar times and postings little flags of when and where

I cannot avoid the void any longer and my atrocious search
for atrocities smoulders at boiling point and the search is

On for the roots which must be exposed from gold fillings
extracted to knowledge before cavities lie filled with pain

Might be covered with exposure of who I am as my father’s child

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