I’m writing a story hidden a long time ago.
Something the survivors had never told.
Something so heroic and yet so terrible
it was buried in the dust of another time.

The journey is arduous, requiring being
in the minds of others long since gone.
Feeling the fear, emotion and joys,
as well as, the deprivation and pain.

Sometimes called the Greatest
Generation, they were but ordinary
people put in impossible situations
bearing the weight of history and circumstance.

I know now why they buried all of it,
I know why they never told of the
horrors they wished to never relive;
and words could never be enough.

They believed no one would ever
again allow the rise of demigods
and the fatalism that led to the
inhumanity they witnessed.

They knew we couldn’t really
understand, and this is exactly
why their stories must be told
and retold, so we do understand.