The Long Walk Home

Walking down the dark, forgotten street,
The putrid smell of flesh burning grabs my attention,
Screams from the tortured echo around me.
The death camp captures my soul,
Through the sky an enormous chimney reaches upward,
Into the heavens the monstrous fire breathes.
I imagine the lost, helpless souls intertwined with smoke and ashes.
Connecting with the pain of the Jews, I feel guilty,
A shiver runs down my sweat-ridden body.
'This insanity must come to an end. I cry out.
But fear keeps me walking the ash-covered street.
With the ghastly cries of the Jews still ringing in my mind,
I pray, 'Lord, please help the chosen ones!'