Lebensraum

 

Lebensraum pronounced (Pronounced: “Lay behnz rowm”)

Imagine before your family died:

Sleep interrupted by noises outside;

You got out of bed, pulled back the blind,

Saw the bulldozers with soldiers behind,

And, half realising what they were for,

Hearing the pounding of fists on the door,

You quickly donned clothing, down the stairs ran;

Opened the door to a gun wielding man.

When of his reasons, aghast, you enquired,

He answered: your tenancy’s expired;

We’ve come to reclaim your property,

And you must vacate immediately.

They were still sleeping; your wife and young son;

As the dozer drives continued to run;

You motioned the gun wielding man to wait,

Urgently woke them, related their fate

And suddenly found yourselves in the street

Homeless, and desolate, in a heartbeat,

Making your way through a place under fire,

Surrounded by walls, topped with barbed wire;

You walked over rubble and shards all night,

With no provisions or shelter in sight,

Leading your loves, like Virgil through hell,

As bombs exploded and buildings fell.

Imagine the day your family died:

Residences burned, with people inside,

Dust covered toddlers, convulsed with thirst,

Powerlines ceased and water pipes burst.

Dazed, weary and desperate for food,

For hours in want of a morsel you queued,

There wasn’t much anybody could do;

So many parcels couldn’t get through,

You sheltered as bombers flew overhead;

And misguided missiles, mounted the dead,

And would have stayed put, if only you knew,

How swiftly fate would dehumanise you.

You saw not the FLASH, heard not the BANG,

Nor the dread ring, as the death knell rang;

It rendered you deaf, made you see double,

Buried your loved ones under the rubble,

And in the lull of that bombing campaign,

A rescue party recovered in vain,

The broken bodies, bloody and raw,

Of your wife and son, now with you no more.

Before very long, the bombers returned,

Baby bones broken, bloodied, and burned,

Were buried beneath the concrete, glass, wood,

Where hours before, a shanty-town stood.

Imagine now, having somehow survived,

You live in a place where power’s supplied

By those who stole your house and your land

And covet even the space where you stand.

Electricity’s four hours a day;

They took your citizens’ rights away,

Forced your economy to its knees

You’re little much more now than refugees;

There’s hardly any medicine at all,

Clean water isn’t available;

Your stomach’s near empty, your mouth is dry,

And the world, ignoring, turns a blind eye.

Soldiers and bulldozers coming once more;

In the face of a long contested law

Written by those who even this day,

Condemn and denounce, yet still look away.

Imagine before your family died:

You opened your palms kept anger inside;

Peacekeeping now feels like a mistake,

There’s only so much a human can take.

Now wielding a gun or knife in your fist,

Outsiders call you a terrorist,

Blind to your torment and deaf to your voice;

Lebensraum advocates, left you no choice.