Nanjing, 1937

Nanjing, 1937

By icejjforrest

The rising sun liberates itself within the sky

As blood-red flags flutter within the barren land

Tears disperse and stain the ground

Plastered with souls abandoned from their

Bruised and gashed molds

The harsh wind whistles and abruptly disappears into the crevasses of an abandoned building

Inside

A siren blasts a cynical anthem

It celebrates the strained whines and trembles

Of a young girl and the abduction of her radiant smile

The soldier

Who rests on top of her fragile frame

proclaims he is done and prances into the next room where another girl

Awaits to sacrifice her dignity

The girl’s father, horrified beyond words, gallops onto the bed

Wrapping her legs into a soft blanket given to her for her first birthday

He howls in grief as his fingers

Blood in the lines of his palms

Stroke her tender stomach

Duì bù qǐ1

Five minutes before

His aching feet shuffled into a corner weeping at

The blatant vandalism of his own

Wǒ ài nǐ2

 

Outside in the shadows, we see a flicker

The flicker reveals a faintly drawn scene of 5 or so months ago

Capturing a mother grazing the head of her young son

We hear his delicate laughter ringing throughout the now barren land

The flicker, in a sudden, grows dim and dwindles within seconds

The mother now clutches her son in terror

As a soldier

Bears a bayonet

Still spotted with dried blood

With fresh drippings at its tip

He viciously kicks her son with his mud-oozing boot

The boy’s ragged cloth falls off his limp body

Surrendering to the cold dirt

Both mother and boy crying for mercy

His mother sympathetically rests her son–

Now bleeding from the crack in his head–

On her bosom and showers him

With the rest of her maternal love

 

All at once

A gunshot and a shriek harmonize

As the mother’s grasp of the child collapses

Mingling with the cement ground

The soldier smirks at his deed

And runs off to brag about his heroism

Māmā3

Where her stomach should be

Is a hole

A cauldron of blood frothing at the surface

Still

She draws him into her breast and cradles him ‘

With her numb arms

Bù yào kū, háizi

Bùyào kū4

Footnotes

1Sorry

2I love you

3: Mom

4: Don’t cry child, don’t cry

 

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