Armenian Odyssey, 1915

Armenian Odyssey, 1915

Journey's end, the weary traveller's hope:

But for now resettlement, a trial to cope

Along the desert path, a dry and arid land,

Towards the heat and dust, desert sand;

This was the year of exile, year of lying,

Because Turkey's leaders wanted dying,

And sent us into a wilderness, a death

Without shelter or provision, the breath

Of life cannot be sustained; but memory

Of those who escaped, who could see

The parched pilgrimage to destruction,

Because we were in the way, obstruction;

And we still are, Turkey lives in denial

Without justice, and with no fair trial,

To hear the voices of innocent abused,

But the graves ring out to the accused;

An Armenian odyssey, time to mourn,

For families, and children yet unborn,

Bearing witness for them, and for all,

Who trod that road, and came to fall,

Trampled by officialdom, by decree;

Pray that the world may someday see

Ravaged orchards, the houses in ashes,

And a people taken, a terror that lashes

Out, destroying. Agony remains still

In our blood, a testament, a living will,

To all whom we lost, of love and hope,

And future robbed. Perhaps time heals

The blooded history, the scars that feel

Old and sore. And let our God be there,

In the wounded story, in all our fear,

And feel the pain, the deaths, the hate,

And destroy the strands of cursed fate:

That at last forgiveness may be given,

That be our destiny for so long striven.