A Lost Journey

Hidden Reason

Hidden in distant mountains, damp cavesshallow holes, endless trenchesin countless sizes, twisted shapesthe faded white of missing --bones stacked, stark against soilshoveled lives forever lost in ashen pits:ageless, faceless, a child, a man, woman.

Words remain voiceless, silent ghostsdrifting, searching, always searchingthe dead rat-holed almost anywhere:in mountains from rebels, in cities -- policein the south from separatiststhe holes all filled, now quietwith the soul song of the disappeared.

This poem was seemed very haunting to me. It's bizzare descriptions of the "faceless" and "shoveled lives forever lost in ashen pits" truly sent shivers down my spine. Although its depictions are horrid, I cannot help but be drawn to this poetry; it's a story about the homeless souls, the nameless and "voiceless" ghosts who lay dead. With "the holes all filled" I cannot help the pity I want to commune to these victimized souls on a lost journey. Thinking about how the Turks refuse to recognize these crimes against to humanity, how can these souls end their journey. How can the pain they've suffered be quenched without the justification and realization of these attrocities. Now, with so many years passed, these holes are "now quiet with the soul song of the disappeared." I cannot imagine what such a place could be like. How could one bear to stand the sorrow of such a mass tomb of the countless victims, no longer distinguishable in the twisted shapes of limbs. I hope future societies can learn from the murderers of countless innocent lives.