Ornately carved tombstones,
once stood proud and majestic,
interceding with heaven
on behalf of the departed souls
resting beneath the earth.
Adorned with timeless motifs,
the khachkars exuded divine peace.
Alas, they are now no more
to be seen and admired;
not even rubble is left behind.
Identity of the land erased,
sacred spaces desecrated,
demolished beyond belief.
A millennium of glorious heritage
reduced to dust within mere minutes.
Ancestors, long and gone,
turn in their graves,
mourning the end of an era.
Descendants live to tell the tale
of sacrilege and dispossession.
History, unfortunately, repeats itself.
Genocide of people then,
genocide of culture now.
Thousands of broken khachkars;
millions of broken hearts.
Adrian David
Adrian David writes ads by day and short fiction by night. His work spans across genres including contemporary fiction, psychological thrillers and everything in between, from the mundane to the sublime.
Latest posts by Adrian David (see all)
- Turkish Delight - August 2, 2022
- When the Euphrates Ran Red - May 23, 2022
- Broken Khachkars - April 6, 2022
Wow, what a way to express Whats the khachkars witnessed
So true, not only for the Armenian people but for so many others as well. For some it seems necessary to wipe out not only the people of a land but even the very memory that they ever existed. You have truly caught this here.