Near Amstetten, Austria: The Cellar of Terror
Elisabeth Fritzl, 42, was held captive by her rapist dad Josef in a windowless cellar for 24 years after he lied to relatives that his daughter had run away.
‘Mummy used to call me Satan’, he said.
She said ‘I was good for nothing’ and
then he readily confessed he kept her bricked
in sealed confines until her own untimely death.
Josef Fritzl, you are the keeper of the damned.
You preyed upon the lambs with malevolent command
And your own daughter, what of her?
Condemned to 24 years in hell;
a hell much worse than hell,
Of that we can be certain;
with yet more horrors looming
and terrors loudly lurking.
For poor Elisabeth suffered
what it is to live in gloom, listening
for footsteps in the tiniest of rooms
with eight secured doors confining
captives you consumed.
This woman you entombed
who suffered rape and incest
each night with sobbing unrest
awaiting daddy’s conquest.
She never saw the colour blue,
the radiance of sunlight
or majesty of moon.
She did not speak to others,
except your children that she bore
and she learnt that love is evil,
And of that we can be sure.
Hideous creature of inbreds,
Does your evil know no bounds?
We carried on our lives
Unaware your wicked sound
And all the while you barrowed
in the clothing and the food
The concrete for extensions
More enslavement for your brood.
The lies you told the neighbours
and the threats you did convey
Don’t enter in my dungeon cos
for that you’ll surely pay.
The rebel child, you told them,
Has left to join a cult
And not one of them did question
Or acknowledge your assault.
But who of us would ponder a hand
so poorly dealt, a daughter locked
in chamber and the feelings that
she felt? Who of us could save
her when her world was so well cloaked,
a clandestine protector that your devil
For seven innocent children Elisabeth did bear
In circumstance so horrid in daddy’s deadly lair
What mother could imagine the anguish and despair
As she tried in vain to fend them in their tomb devoid of air?
And of those seven babies, three were chosen at command
To live upstairs with grandma, their uncles and their aunts
The rest were left to huddle, desensitised, alone
And what would mother fear from past experiences she’d known?
What age would you decide was ripe for molestation?
What distractions would she render to garnish your attention?
For with the death of one babe you did nowt to intervene
You just fed him to the ashes like the lamb to wolverine.
After 24 years
And with another death nearby
You decided to allow Kerstin,
Elisabeth at her side,
A trip she’d thought impossible
After years of violation
You let them to the hospital
Thus exposed your aberration.
And now Herr Josef Fritzl, you may rot inside your cell
A cell I’m sure is cosier than your families life of hell
The news is still emerging of your sordid, sick facade
You may say you’re born a rapist and astound with your remarks
You’ve left a family damaged unlikely to be fixed
I return to you an answer and I name you 666.