Zyklon B by Black-Wall

::Voice::

"It can be said that about one-third died straightaway. The remainder staggered about and began to scream and struggle for air. The screaming, however, soon changed to the death rattle and in a few minutes all lay still..."

::End Voice::
::Static sounds and a large door slams shut::

Can you feel what has been felt?
Can you see what has been seen?
Can you die like they have died?

Down that dirt cast road into oblivion, hearing the thoughts that angels think.
My skin peels back and I now see the true meaning.
I never wanted my last breath to taste like death.
Swallow the emotion as it came raining through the air, the walls stained with blood from the bleeding eyes, finger nails grip the chunks of hair.
Clawing in agony, I look to life and it burns like the growing fire in me.
Lost track of convulsions, spewing crimson red and the heart panics and my body attacks.
Why is this happening to me.

Can you feel the chill run through your veins as the door locks and the file crosses red through your name.
The poison will call, one last ride.
In the back of a truck your angel has arrived.

I scream as my lungs fill up and boil, drying my senses up.
One last gaze into the sky, a smoke pume of what its like to be burned alive. The oven closes and the timer is thrown away.
A chemical thought, a crime born out of genocide.

Can you feel the chill run through your veins as the door locks and the file crosses red through your name.
The poison will call, one last ride.
In the back of a truck your angel has arrived.

Soil fill my lungs once more as I and cast to the ground.
A prayer wont do me any good, for I cant even start to believe.
A hook is crossed through my shoulder as I am lowered down the halls, soldiers stand ready, proud and tall.
I am chained with my mate, her love has lived forever, beyond her red stained blonde hair.
Her life has left her.

Can you feel the chill run through your veins as the door locks and the file crosses red through your name.
The poison will call, one last ride.
In the back of a truck your angel has arrived.

I can feel it now.
I can see it now.
I breathe in, the door closes and I...

::Door closes::
::The sound of flames::

:Voice:

"Depending on the size of the bodies, up to three corpses could be put into one oven at the same time. The time required for cremation...took twenty minutes."

::End voice::