I am pleased to have as a contributor to this collection, Mr B 0 Miller a near neighbour of mine, who is also a former prisoner of the Japanese. Like most Pow's he was held captive in various camps of the Far East between February 1942 to August 1945. He readily admits to not having a very strong faith that manifested itself quite forcibly during those years. He found there were occasions when an un-Christian approach to a situation, more often than not, became a major force in the fight for survival. He says "the influences of the commandments and earlier teachings simply vanished" Many times in post war years he had wanted to put into words how he felt and it was not till some forty years later he finally managed to do so. He found verse to be an outlet and wrote the following untitled poem.
Maurice A Rooney
When I die there will be no hymns to sing
No dirges, laments or the muffled bell's ring
You can lift up your heart to your God on high
But we'll never forget when he passed us by.
Imprisoned in a Jungle green
The forgotten, as unknown, unseen
We lived in abeyance as death ate its fill
At the blazing pyres on Cholera Hill.
What bonds were blasted when losing a friend
When from disease and despair, came the inevitable end
And while others found favour by the Saviour's whim
We waited and watched as our lives grew dim.
Swamped by the misery, the grief and the pain
We hoped in your mercy, you'd call out our name
We sang of your glory and begged to be heard
We prayed and we pleaded but never a word.
We swore as we floundered in a pit of despair
We'd obey whoever, or whatever may care
With our need so great we'd grasped all help that came
But nothing was found in the Almighty's name
No hereafter for me reflecting injoy
My soul was for sale, my sins for employ
Came a chance to survive no need to atone
The Devil gave me his hand, you didn't offer your own.
B.O Miller
|