"Ding!"
Roll call by numbers
then soup,
the set out for morning labor
lifting stones, non-stop
yes, for twelve hours a day.
"Ding!"
Supper rations
barely enough for our hunger;
don't complain
at least it's something.
"Ding!"
Night.
Already time to sleep
no sheets,
no comfort,
all just illusions of sanity.
"Ding!"
Oh, only in my head
a nightmare,
repeated as I lay for bed.
Maybe one day...
"Ding!"
After selection
they're all dead.
You can see their souls
in the chimney's smoke.
"Ding!"
Wait, I forgot
no god here,
not within the walls
of this solemn concentration camp.
"Ding!"
I made it out.
Yet, I can still hear that
hideous sound.
It's around always.
It leaves never.
"DING!" |
Submission Name: Continous Bell
