Silence In Yekaterinburg Poem by Patti Masterman

They herded them in the cellar,
like dumb animals to the slaughter,
at the bottom of the stairs,
and into the lowest level of that house,
where they began firing their weapons at them,
in the small room.

And precious gems, that had been sewn
into the hemlines and undergarments
of the women of the royal family,
in one last attempt to keep them on their persons,
where maybe they could be saved
(or possibly used even to buy back their freedom)
sometimes were struck by the bullets,
which were turned aside, by them-
some of the bullets came ricocheting back,
at the shooters
because of these hidden jewels,
and nobody knew why.

This began to frighten
some of the assassins,
who threw their guns down, and rushed out;
shaking and trembling,
they ran outside of the house,
vowing to have no further part in this plot:
They had thought it proof that god himself
was looking after the family,
who were known to be steadfast in their devotions;
it must be His own refusal, to allow them to be ambushed,
that was mysteriously at work in the cellar..

And even when they were all finally removed,
the dead, the dying, and the bleeding,
from that place, some of those men still refused
even to go back inside;
too fearful to help with the clean up afterwards.

And then they hid all the bodies
of the royal jewels of the monarchy
in an unmarked, mass grave,
and afterwards someone was heard to boast,
The world will never know what we did with them.
But even the tall trees, and even the dark dirt
Could not remain forever silent..