I have seen many things.
But none will ever erase the day from my mind.
The blood, the glass, the flames.
They are forever engraved in my memories.
They pop up when I least expect them.
I can't help it.
It just happens.
And every time, no matter how many times it happened before, I cry.
I see them lying there.
Their eyes open but unseeing.
Never shall they breathe the crisp mountain air, or hear the rain fall.
They are gone now.
To a better place?
I honestly do not know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That's so sad. One can only hope there in a better place.