August 31 Poem by Victor Geld

My god, they had killed him
They had taken him in the dark night's hue
His blood like moses's nile_
From it emanated the smell of copper
I had never seen such a sight
They had left him there for all to see
We just stood there, We just watched
We all knew that it was too late
For he lay there undressed,
In the cold August wind
There he lay still,
His feet were black
As if he had been walking_
Straight to the gates of death
My heart was overwhelmed,
And all emotion withdrew from my face
I had been stripped of the last
Sleavers of hope i still had for mankind
Was he guilty or innocent, i didn't mind
For the only thing I thought about was
Why? Why would one take a life?