They walk with their heads down,
feet dragging over the frozen ground,
mindless skeletons marching in an endless line,
dull unseeing eyes stare straight ahead.
One man stops and stands alone,
ignoring shouts and orders,
the chaos around him,
the murderous Nazis.
He looks no different from anyone else,
his body is broken,
but his eyes show something else,
his mind is still his own.
There is life in his old eyes,
despite the death all around him,
all the sorrow, all the pain,
all the hate, all the struggle.
Shots ring out all around him,
and the life in his old eyes dim,
as his body falls to the ground,
and his soul leaves this hell.
They walk on with their heads down,
stepping over the lifeless body,
the skeleton of a man,
who had life in his eyes.
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