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Yahweh, bless my soul and give me an eternity of salvation. Ring around the Rosie. Living in Poland was almost dream like. The snowy alps of the winters and the radiant warmth of the summers breeze. Blessed, Yahweh provided us what many see as a life of luxury. Each day beginning with a new sense of freedom, and longevity. It was blissful. The first morning of September 1939, some brothers had received news from family in the Capital region. Intrigued by the revelation, I went to the Rabbi. He had heard of all the gossip among the townsfolk, but this, it was no longer just gossip, but a threat. The German state had begun invasion, segregating us Juden from their new race in hatred and disgust, the Aryan race. Panicked, we all began conspiring of a plan to free ourselves from the unfolding events. Some suggested fleeing to Russia, passing through the border, whilst others suggested Bulgaria. Some followed and left, but me? I chose to stay, to defend my brothers, to keep my home safe. Pocket full of posies. As the collections began, we lost our humanity, and they lost their sanity behind the guise of their lord. Rounded up into groups, picked out like needles in hay, our chances were slim, and those there, slimmer. Pacing down the hall, bloodied marks of resistance gleamed among the walls like a bright light in a dark night. Staring at the injured, the weak, the wounded, they sifted through the crowd and split us into smaller amounts based on a system of coloured triangles stitched onto uniforms we were all given. Two yellow triangles formed the star of David on the badge near my new identity, 38637… Our livelihoods were in their hands now. Ashes, ashes. The bellowing chimneys erupted once more. The flying wisps of fallen souls yearning for salvation. The deathly hollow shrieks from suffering, it echoed throughout the walls, a horror so incomprehensible, so vile, so inhuman. The empty halls flooded with whispers, from the people close and those no longer. Walls stained in blood, barbed wires leaving us to rust. To go brittle. To snap. Each dawn we were forced into torturous labour by the Kapo, with no regard for safety, many fell. The lifeless flooding the ground, each day drowning us further. Still, we had to push further in fear of what would come to us. Their insanity only grew as they began to lose control. We had to work faster, longer, harder, we couldn’t stop. Those who rest were taken away to never be seen again. Each morning as the sun rose, the shadow of the gate projected upon my wall. Arbeit Macht Frei, work sets you free. Work only imprisoned. Countless hours we spent hoping for saviour, praying that we would leave free, only ignited before our very eyes. I grew weak, the rations they gave us on occasion to keep us living, so abhorrent that it seemed the nutrients had been drained out of them, such as they did to us. My frail body seemed not fit for the factories no more, and with typhus rampaging through the facility? I stood no chance. I was destined to leave in the group tomorrow. As dawn grew close and the sun began to rise, he walked through, a commanding presence. It was him. The man us jew feared. The man in the posters. The man who called himself a messiah. Rushed we awoke, using the little strength we all had left in order to prove how valuable we were for the operations in fear of what would be done to us. The guards stormed through the halls grasping people for what they called humanitarian rescue, to which they were sent to to freshen themselves to present the facility as humane. As the heavy steps neared to my dorm cell and the cries of freedom shown by those chosen, I felt relieved. I was being liberated. As the door to my dorm creaked open, a ray of light shone through the room, they chose me. I was going home. Arbeit Macht Frei, work does set you free. As we walked through the cold empty halls, the drowning desperation from my jew brothers flooded my consciousness. I felt guilty. Some men were bearing families and others were children. If only I could give someone else a better life. Watching the diseased rot and the exit grow nearer, we left the dorms to a small building outside, a grey smoke surrounding. As we entered to showers there was a dastardly smell. Ashes and sweat engulfed the blackened, worn corridors of the showers. The furnaces bellowed once more. The whips of fallen souls lined into the shower rooms, with each turn becoming harder and harder to navigate. This wasn’t the showers. Forced into a constricted room, 30 men. As the steel door shut screeching one last time, the men outside laughed. They laughed and laughed and laughed until the whining of the pumps froze. And the vile screams and hollow shrieks erupted my lungs, engulfing into flames. I couldn't help them much longer. Yahweh, bless my soul and give me an eternity of salvation. We all fall down.