In one place
Inside a barbed-wire perimeter
We all stood – Saul’s lineage
Yet no lion’s roar or David’s sling
Just one horror-ville, where one mustache
– Stiffened and bushing over an upper lip –
Sent shudders down every spine

And there we stood
Spellbound to memories of yesteryear
Where we could feel violins and cellos
Between our ears and love whispers gone-by
Amplifying ear drums and quaking ear-wax
As we played windpipes
And heartbeats, closed our eyes
To monochrome picture shows
While listening to Aeolian flutes – near and far
Gazing at twinkling fairy lights
On a Negroid night

When our stubborn perpetuation
Broke the Aryan cross
As we finally stood on the other side
Of the gate of Buchenwald
Knowing our unbroken courage
Was only as rich in ore
As King Soloman’s mines.


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