Unsurrendering Voices

As his eyes opened wide,
hearing the silence,
he looked out into a dream,
staring at the ceiling dome,
of the forgotten home,
of his forgotten troupe.

The wide expanse of the theatre,
that once housed Mozart and Wagner,
was now a ghetto waiting room,
before being dragged to impending doom,
and he saw the hopelessness and grief,
that the fall of civilization weaves.

Before being stamped by the yellow badge,
He remembered his last pledge,
of one last momentous performance,
which would raise voices to the edge.
For today voices loud and unbound,
were needed to bring Jehovah to the ground.

His quivering legs,held strong today,
as he walked to the centre of the stage,
he walked today with no fear,
he walked today with held back tears,
knowing his once protected life and voice,
would be silenced,today,by his own choice.

As he sang,it was only an apparition
of his former talented rendition,
yet it fuelled the theatre 
and with him,his people sang.
They waited to end his singing,
but they could not stop the rising,
that now had people on their feet,
their only way of chastising,
this scar on human race.

A shot rang out,silence fell,
a body lay silent on the floor.
His final performance,his best,
and before all would return to rest,
another voice took his place,
of a young boy,who now faced,
the handful of soldiers.

The next shot that rang out,
made the gathering doubt,
its source,but soon,
the Allied platoon,
forced its way into the hall.

D-day had arrived,
humanity had survived,
and until every soul was saved,
the Royal Theatre braved,
a solitary voice than sang,
turning a boy into a man.