no matter how much you’d prayed
The cold clenched your throat and rain battered your cheeks,
but the only thing you felt was fear.
And how did you feel when they took away all that was left to you?
Survived among several millions and still
you can't explain how lost you feel.
What where you thinking while taking the razors to cut your wrists?
Where have you been, my love?
In the camp over a million times...
Where have they gone, my love?
Passed through a chimney...
No matter how brave they where...
Ash in the air, and blood on the snow,
hundreds sleeping on the floor.
The winter has covered their traces but you’ve never forgotten them...
Contributed by Dq82 - 2018/1/29 - 11:52
Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.