by Jen T
It hasnt changed much since i last walked here numb, bewildered and unbearably alone sixteen years ago.
ghostly companions cannot ease anything
Funny though, I dont remember the jail block for special prisoners.
those tiny rooms with their fake heaters must have been a luxury
compared to the barracks built for 200 and holding smashed and oozing up to 2000 living skeltons
details and information abound
i could write horror upon horror and soon we would be immune
never again. why not write inevitably again?
Now we just incinerate without the torture, the slow death by starvation, the disease dripping down from top tier to middle to bottom
is this progress?
work is freedom
death is freedom
solitude is freedom
slavery is freedom.
Oh Orwell, how did you know?
Why wont we know?
Dachau, Aushwitz (no i cant spell), Bergen Belson...
In the rain, in the sun, in the fresh spring breeze
where we all speak in whispers and i know finality and deadly folly
and there are neither tears nor sorrow nor shame enough to wash this carnage away