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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote this sestina a few months ago for an English assignment. It's not very good, but I'm very attached to it. It's set during the Holocaust, from the point of view of someone in hiding. I HATE the picture I have for it, but I couldn't find anything better, and I have a thing about pictures...I find them necessary.

Submitted: June 20, 2008

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Submitted: June 20, 2008

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I am alone now.

Everyone has been taken.

Alone in the darkness,

I'm sure they will come after me.

I look down into the streets,

Waiting for passersby to be gone.

 

My friends are all gone.

It's only me now.

Pulled off the streets,

My friends have been taken.

On their way to see me,

One by one, pulled into the darkness.

 

I listen to the wind's soft whisper, a sweet caress in the darkness.

All humanity is gone.

All good has fled from me.

Afraid now,

Knowing at any moment I could be taken.

My eyes sweep the nearly empty streets.

 

I hear a distant siren in the streets.

I close the curtain, engulfed in the dreadful darkness.

Afraid of being taken,

Afraid of being gone.

Tremors dance down my spine now.

They must be coming to get me.

 

I know they're coming for me.

The siren grows ever louder in the streets.

I can hardly control my terror now.

A soft whisper escapes me, floats into the darkness.

Wishing I could disappear, wishing to be gone,

I pray I won't be taken.

 

As I wish I won't be taken,

A sudden deafening silence overwhelmes me.

Are they gone?

Their car is stopped in the streets.

Pounding on the door, then I'm forced further into darkness.

It's all over now.

 

Now I'm being taken,

Through darkness they are dragging me.

Now in the streets. Sharp pain. Everything is gone.


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