Oh Glorious Spring
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- Votes 1
- Parts 1
Complete Wed, May 26, 2021<5 mins
This is a poem I wrote about those that survived the Holocaust, and those that didn't. The butter fly is a physical representation and also a symbol of the holocaust. Tell me what you think in the comments or a direct message!
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They say the world used to turn. They say that night would follow day in an endless dance. They say that dawn rose, dusk fell, and we worshiped both sun and stars. That was a long time ago. The dance has died. The world has fallen still. We float through the heavens, one half always in light, one half always in shadow. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, we are torn. My people are the fortunate. We live in daylight, blessed in the warmth of the sun. Yet across the line, the others lurk in eternal night, afraid... and alone in the dark. I was born in the light. I was sent into darkness. This is my story.
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