Blackest Night

A poem in honor of Yom Hashoah. 

Hope was leaving

Chests were heaving

Not believing what they saw

Pyres burning

Minds discerning

People yearning to be saved

Each forced to dig his own grave

Burned by the licking flame

Murdered by number, not by name

Bodies lifted

Souls drifted

A journey from this hell on earth

Innocence lost

With a fiery frost

Families torn apart by the Holocaustnike air max 1 basketball

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