In retrospect

What did you feel when his tainted
fingers touched your soft lips, sang
silently the death march of millions
and more bowing to death, the air
filled with screams of hope springing
from the last gasps  of innocence?

What did you hear when the pyres lit
high, ashes dancing, flaked off from
the half-roast lives, once alive and now
let dim, free men suddenly ceased to
be , while you sighed warm in those cold
arms carefully embracing your heart?

Did you smell their sweat in his love,
hear weary feet, tiny patters of ebbing
hearts filling the dark, loud hush of long
nights that he was away, calmly striking
off thousands unfortunate, destinies
slayed with a single stroke of the pen?

Pray reveal the conceiled singular love
no one saw but you, Eva Braun.