Sterile Silence

The sterile halls hum like death,

Behind these walls, will I take my final breath?

Auschwitz cloaked in whispers grim,

A tomb where my spirit grows dim.

A silver needle, cold and deep,

Whispered poison into my sleep.

My legs are stone, betrayed by the cure,

Numb from the poison, my body unsure.

Doctor in white, with eyes like knives,

His gaze cold, where silence thrives.

Nurses march like ghosts in line,

Revealing my scars, like marks divine.

Herr Doctor, you carve at my soul,

Each incision deep, a part of me whole.

Herr Lucifer, you whisper in the dark,

A venomous lullaby, leaving its mark.

The needles pierce, the darkness blooms,

The question lingers, no voice to fill the room.

No prayers arise, no grace attained,

The storm still howls, its fury unchained.