For those who suffered through the Holocaust.

The sun in its glory shines down on us as we mourn.

We came to this place to escape the sirens and chains, but we have been found by enemy planes.

Our shackles returning, our skin is burning.  An ever-present gnawing in our stomachs, for food was a treasure from our past.

Though agonizing cries spill from our lips, no one hears us but God alone.

As we labor the land, suffering torture and demand, our trust is in God, who’s holding our hand.


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