We are made of dough
Forced to march into a full sized oven
To bake for far too long
Long enough to burn the bread we are
Metamorphosing into
Long enough to turn to ashes

They act like nothing happened they sweep
The ashes away like they didn't see the living
Humans that had just walked through there,
They pretend that the ashes were simply from
A fire even though we all know those came from
The flesh of a boy or maybe a man
Although, none of us are men here,
We are cattle
Nervous, sweating thick drops of tears
As we are Being shoved closer and closer
To the slaughter house,
Animals in their eyes

But it's not like they are living either,
Here the living are already dead,
The only difference between us and the
Officially deceased is
Our hearts are beating

The ghosts hanging
From silver nooses
Formed of screams and shadows
Blur into the cold night

I reach for my fathers hand now,
And he accepts it wordlessly
Grasping firmly onto my last hope of security
The only place I feel safe is next to him

The promise of tomorrow
Was truly a lie
And not one of us knows who's left living
Or who's left for dead
So we can only hope
That we survive till dawn
And that night doesn't take us if the Germans won't
Although they always will

And I wonder,
Who is the frozen deity
They pledge their souls to
Every pastel morning?
And where is he now?
Pulling the puppet strings
Of a grown man's body?
Or weaving new thoughts
For someone else?
Because the things they do,
The thoughts they have
Couldn't possibly
Be genuinely born
Of human nature


It's sad, so sad
To see the once strong men metamorphose
Into broken down wagons, missing a wheel or two
Longing for their wives and children
As they walk through their potentially numbered days
With a melancholy fog hanging heavily
Around them

But it also infuriates me
When the enemies stalk like predators
Hungry wolves
On the hunt
For weak rabbits and unneccessary livestock
For easy prey to satisfy
Their appetite
For blows and bullets
I see these things
And I feel like I might fall apart at the seams



And they say intangible things
Like "love and god and hope exist,"
Well then, what happened to it?
Where were these things
When I saw a child hanged,
His face turning indigo blue like
As he desperately attempted
To run to death's welcoming embrace?

Why don't these things
Live in their hearts?
Why don't they grow and blossom
Into efflorescent blooms
Like in a normal human's soul?
Where is the humanity?


Or was humanity just a facade,
Into tricking society into believing we
Are above feral animals?
Because here the flowers of any sort of joy
Wither as soon as they have the chance to bloom
The incandescent sunlight
Never reached the roses, lilies, and violets of humanity
Because the ever present clouds won yet again
And now, right now,
Is their biggest disgrace



And as iridescent as I try to be,
As all of us try to be,
To keep our sanity
We know we will never be happy
At least not here, not now
As we remain mired in this endless misery
Because the bread of our skin has gone stale
The flames within our eyes have been extinguished
The flowering blossoms of our hearts have withered
And the light bulbs of our smiles cracked