We wait in shadows, hollow-eyed,
Our bodies worn, but still we stand—
No dreams of freedom, no hope of light,
Just death’s slow march, upon this land.
The cries of children lost in air,
The smoke that rises, fills the sky—
In every breath, despair is there,
As we await the final sigh.
The frozen earth beneath our feet,
Our limbs, once warm, now cold with fear,
The silence broken by the beat
Of hearts that know the end is near.
No whispering prayers, no love remains,
Only the ashes of the past—
We’ve learned to live inside our chains,
And wait for death to come at last.
The hunger eats, but not the soul,
For in this place, the soul is gone,
As screams of torment take their toll,
And shadows stretch from dusk to dawn.
No morning sun will rise again,
No night to give us rest from pain—
We wait, and feel no hope remain,
Just death, that comes to claim the slain.
How does one preserve their humanity in the face of such overwhelming suffering, when survival itself seems an impossible dream and death feels like the only certainty?
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