My Mother's Eyes- Thoughts On the Armenian Genocide

They dragged her away Kicking and screaming Arms outstretched towards My little sister Who lay dying on the ground Her lips parched Her eyes sunken Her wasted arms reaching out “Myreik, don’t leave me!” My father pulled her away from The young soldier’s hands The one who had violated her The one who now sneered “Keep moving….she will be dead Before nightfall.” I hurried after them Stumbling through my tears Afraid of being left behind I turned for one last look There she lay…her eyes closing Left behind to join the The dead along the path My sister…. That night I didn’t hear her cry Or complain as the soldiers Dragged her away She was beautiful My mother With eyes the color Of the sea Eyes that danced And twinkled Like stars on a clear night Eyes that smiled Eyes that embraced Eyes that spoke What words couldn’t say I fell asleep to the sound of my father’s weeping “Wake up,” I heard her say As I fought to keep my dreams alive My eyes fluttered open I closed them to the hungry faces I closed them to the filth on her dress I searched her eyes Calm and glassy They looked past me Not seeing In them I read No pain No joy No recognition No….life! Tears sprang to my eyes Tears for the death of my sister’s body Tears for the death of my mother’s soul… My mother’s eyes My mother’s eyes... They haunt me still.