42-45: A Life-A Death

I've Been Called...

My feet hit the concrete.
There's the sound of an engine.
We all know this sound...
I have to slow down...
There's still a curfew in place.

The sound of the engine is closer now...
Holding my breath...
Against the darkness of night...
From the silence, comes banging of fists on a door...
Voices shouting... carrying into the night.

Öffnen Sie! Öffnen Sie!
Öffnen Sie! Öffnen Sie!
Gestapo.
Chaos ensues...
Gunshots... and footsteps...

An Undisclosed Location...

I never realized... the extravagance of a bed below a hidden room...
I never realized... the weight of grief... my freedom, a privilege, an inner anguish...
Quietly enduring the moments passing.
There's no time for feelings...
Silent and still as stone.

Outside, someone is there...
They are coming closer, listening near the door.
They are very curious now...
They wonder what those sounds were...
They think I'm here...

They will tell.
They will be rewarded for their service.
I don't understand.
Don't they realize...
I'm human too.

Heavy footsteps, and loud voices shouting at me.
I belong to them now.
I'm so scared. What will become of me?
All I have are the rumors.
Disappearance... death... the unknown.

Arbeit Macht Frei...

Train cars on the platform.
Men and women, separated.
Is this begining of my demise?
I'm naked and running now...
A strange sort of selection...

These lines... I'm still naked, I'm cold...
Left, right, right, left.
Which way does my card state to proceed?
Right, selected.
But... what becomes of the left?

Those left behind...
I watch as they are lead away.
Women crying... their children ripped from their arms.
Where are they going?

I have no time to think.
The pain of ink in my arm is still fresh.
I no longer have a name, only a number, we are all numbers now.
It's hard to believe there was ever "a before" all this...
Or that there will be an after, or that there be anyone left.

My New Life...

Five of us to one small bunk...
We still feel little warmth.
Each of us are alone...
Fighting against chance... to last the night.
Even one more hour.

I dream of clean smelling sheets.
I dream of a real mattress.
Waking with the sun on my face...
Turning and going back to sleep in that sunlight.
Alas, that's only a dream...

The hours in the mud, struggling to stay upright.
Keeping a tight hold of the cup for my soup.
Otherwise, I might not eat again.
I can not feel sorrow for woman beside me.
I'm too busy making sure that I'm not next...

Looking through that fence, I haven't the strength to climb.
Smelling the acrid smoke, feeling the ash on my face... in my hair...
I am bald... I am lice ridden... I am less than a woman now.
I am but a burden, carrying their hate...
I long not to feel that shame.

I bleed from a thousand and one wounds.
My stomach is contorted with absolute hunger.
My eyes are haggard.
I moan as though insane.
Vicious dogs snap at my fleshless ankles.

Block 20...

I'm still alive...
But I can't be sure.
I must be ill, because I'm in a lying down...
But, I am confused, we never lie down.
There is no such thing as rest.

I feel hot and my head aches.
My whole body hurts.
These are just words...
Bone grinding against bone.
There are no words for pain like this.

I should be carrying rocks up the quarry.
If the woman in front of me falters, I will fall.
They always wait until one of us is on the very last step.
Already thinking of putting down her current bit of punishment.
Laughing, kicking one of us, we all fall like dominoes.

That's all I remember, falling down.
I felt my battered body quiver and bounce.
I feel the other bodies land on me.
Bony body, on top of bony body.
My bones crunch under the heavy weight.

These women delight in our suffering as they laugh.
I can't breathe, I'm suffocating.
Only pain let's me know I'm still alive.
I need to get up and walk...
If not, I will be piled up with the rest of the dead.

Dreaming of Escape...

I can see my home...
I feel the green grass beneath my feet.
I am no longer cold... because I feel the bright summer sun.
I smell the fresh air...
It's something I thought I had lost, I had forgotten.

It's a lie...
I'm still here.
I just want to go home.
Where is my family? Are they okay?
I just want to hug my mother.

Each day a part of me dies.
I allow it to die to survive.
I stand... I work... I sleep...
Very soon they will come for me.
When they come I must stand up and work, or I will die.

It's quiet now.
I've seen no one.
I understand little of what's happening.
I wonder, is there a God.
I'm so tired... it's so hard to focus.

Perhaps I am dying...
Everyone dies here, they have no choice.
It is now my turn...
Honestly, I'm relieved.
Because my work is finally finished.